


A Bad Dream

by Balletismyobsession



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Bully, Bullying, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6404077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balletismyobsession/pseuds/Balletismyobsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe violence later? Not sure. Moving from fanfiction.net and I haven't worked on this story in a while, but there might be more violence. </p><p>Karofsky's assaults on Kurt, and Kurt and Blaine's budding friendship. Based off Season 2 mature and mysterious older mentor-type Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why do I have to fly

Kurt shifted, pulling his messenger bag up higher up on his shoulder as he finished distributing his books back into his locker after the last class of the day. His hand brushed absentmindely against the soft leather of the bag that bumped gently agianst his upper thigh as he walked.

In his other hand, he held a cell phone, and was laughing as he spoke to Mercedes, who was in the middle of telling him the top ten reasons why they should hang out more often.

"I'm sorry Ms. Diva," he smiled as he responded, though he did feel like he wasn't being a very good friend. He just hadn't been in the mood to be with other people lately, though not one of his friends would have been able to see his true feelings on his face. That was something his dad had told him he'd gotten from his mother: stubborness and the ability to convince people you were okay. Sometimes he even convinced himself that things were okay, when they weren't. "I've just been... busy, that's all."

Mercedes huffed on the other end of the line as she stared her car and continued her conversation while waiting for it to warm up, but Kurt knew she was just teasing him. "Well, alright white boy, take care of yourself you hear? But that doesn't give you any excuse not to come over to my house on Saturday. Rachel will be there too, remember? And makeovers and magazines and Rachel's bringing her collection of musicals on DVD. Rent, Cats, Sweeney Todd..."

"You had me at makeovers sweetie. I promise I'll be there."

He had barely had time to hang up when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hey fairy boy!"

Great.

He sighed. He didn't want to deal with this today. Well, again today. He'd already been tossed in the dumpster this morning.

Better to get it over with. Ignoring it would only make things worse. He turned, making himself as tall as he could, which was at least a few inches taller than the burly bully who mocked him endlessly, but he had nothing on Karofsky's sheer size and muscle.

"Yes?" He asked in a monotone voice, trying to sound bored, like this didn't hurt anymore.

"What's this I hear about you giving makeovers? How about you give one to Finn? Seems to me like you two are practically attatched at the hip. When's the wedding?" He laughed, and the sound sent a chill down Kurt's spine.

Finn didn't need to get in the middle of this. It wasn't his fight to deal with.

"In case you haven't noticed, Finn and I are stepbrothers and have been for a while, or has your thick skull not been able to process that information?" He didn't know what was making him so confident. He just really didn't feel like dealing with this today. He just wanted to go home and soak in a nice long bath after an awful week. He'd been slushied four times this week alone. Karofsky had always seemed to find times to get him when there was no one else around. Karofsky was purposely avoiding Finn and Kurt had a feeling that deep down, he was worried that Finn might get the balls to go after him. So Kurt had been late to multiple classes this week because he'd been in the bathroom trying to get the corn syrup out of his hair. He'd taken to bringing extra otfits to stash in his locker, and he'd had to use them all. The outfit he wore now was his second one of the day and as it was Friday, he hadn't brought anything else.

Of course, it would be that kind of day though, now wouldn't it?

"You know what?"

Kurt lifted his chin, preparing himself for whatever insult Karofsky was about to hurl at him.

Unfortunately, a sneer appeared on the bully's face. "I think you need to cool off."

And before Kurt could do so much as blink, Karofsky had thrown a cup full of frozen slush in his face.

Kurt inhaled sharply as the initial impact of the blue slushie sent him backing away, though he knew he couldn't just back away from the cold. His eyes squeezed closed and he swallowed hard. Some of the drink had gotten in his mouth before he could close it, and he tasted the artificial sweetness of raspberry. Immediately, he brought his hands up to his face to wipe the melting ice away from his eyes, but he hadn't been quick enough and some of the syrup dribbled into his eyes. It stung and he fought back tears. Biting his frozen bottom lip, he glared at Karofsky, but he was gone.

He let out a soft sob, feeling the icy slime of syrup drip down his neck, down his chest and back, making him shiver involuntarily. He should be used to this. It shouldn't still hurt.

But it did. And what hurt the most, was the fact that the hall was filled with students, and not one of them asked him if he was okay. Not one had bothered to stop Karofsky. Not one even looked at him with a sympathetic glance.

He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes again, getting most of the slush off his face, but his white shirt was now streaked with blue and he knew it would never come out all the way. He didn't even know why he bothered to wear white anymore. He took a deep breath and clutched the strap of his bag tighter. Holding his chin up high, he strode out of McKinley High as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself.

He didn't know why he had to run. He knew he didn't belong here. But he didn't understand why he was forced to be tortured like this. He was picked on more than any other kid in Glee and all for just being himself. Like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter, he was forced to fly, forced to wear this badge on his chest, his own scarlet letter, of being gay. Sure, no one forced him to wear designer clothes and outfits that actually took time to put together, but at least now, he wouldn't be losing himself. He felt comfortable in his clothes and he had always been proud to be gay, but now, he wasn't so sure if he could make it here. The easiest thing would be to change his clothes to better fit the 'style' of the rest of the guys at McKinley. That was the easiest thing and the hardest. His clothes defined him, he loved his clothes and he thought that the reason he didn't give them up was the same reason that Hester continued to wear the red letter on her chest. Pride. He was proud to be himself and he could not count the number of times that he'd hoped that people would one day wake up and think 'oh, he's proud to be who he is, we should respect that and leave him alone.'

But life was not like that. Life was not fair. He sighed as he got into his car, with another outfit ruined.

There had to be something better than this.


	2. Over every town, up and down the line?

"You want me to do what?"

Rachel looked up at him from under her dark eyelashes and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "Spy on the Warblers. It really shouldn't be that hard."

He stared at her with disbelief. "Well, why… why not Finn?"

She laughed and then looked around, as if she was worried that Finn might be there listening. Rachel had approached Kurt during break and he thought he had misheard her.

"Think about it Kurt. Do you really think Finn could carry out this mission without blowing his cover? Puck flat out refused to go to a 'preppy, smart-ass private school,' Artie, well Artie wouldn't exactly be able to blend in you know? And Mike doesn't know anything about private schools."

"And you think I do?" He was beginning to think that she really might be going a little bit crazy with this whole spying thing and he really didn't see why they had to do it in the first place.

"Well, I mean, I think you have the best shot of fitting in there. Everyone else thinks so too. And it's an all-boy's school, so the girls obviously can't go."

"Ugh, Rachel, I-"

"Please Kurt? Don't you want to get a look at our competition? This could be a huge advantage for us."

The look on Rachel's face said that she wasn't going to give up on this. And in truth, he felt happy that he was the only person that they thought could spy without getting caught. And he'd never been to a private school, let alone an all-boy's private school and he really was curious about what it was like there.

That was how he ended up here, sitting crouched behind the bushes with Rachel and Mercedes, wearing a stolen Dalton uniform that felt weird, oddly stiff against his skin. He didn't want to know where Rachel had gotten the uniform. She had shown up at his house this morning, holding the uniform and a Lima Bean cup of coffee in her hands, a huge thank-you so much smile plastered on her face.

"Okay," Rachel peered out between the leaves, eyes darting back and forth. "That one. That one right there with the dark hair."

Rachel pointed to a figure across the large grass quad.

"That," she said, as Mercedes shooed her away to get a better look, and then pulled Kurt in to look with her, "ladies and gentlemen, is Blaine Anderson. He's the lead soloist for the Warblers."

Kurt's eyes scanned where Rachel had indicated. There was a group of boys, all clad in the same uniforms, huddled together in a circle. He immediately picked out the smooth dark hair. The boy had his back to them, and Kurt suddenly so badly wanted him to turn around.

"So, Kurt, remember the plan?"

He didn't want to take his eyes off of the boy, in the hopes that he would turn and he would get to see his face, but he regretfully pulled his gaze away to look at Rachel.

"Yes. We've been through this four times today."

"I just don't want anything to happen. If you get caught, so help me, I'll…." Rachel seemed unable to think of a sufficient threat and continued, "You just have to sneak into the auditorium, that's the big building over there, listen to a couple songs, sneak back out, and meet us in the parking lot."

"Yeah, I got it."

"Right. Okay, well, according to the dirt Puck was able to dig up, they start rehearsal at four, which is in ten minutes."

"Yeah, uh-huh."

Kurt had turned his attention back to stare at the soloist. He had beautiful hair, he could tell that even this far away. It was shiny and perfectly styled and he could bet that it was soft as it ran through his fingers-

Woah. Okay, time to get back to the task at hand. Plenty of time later to drool over the boy's perfect hair.

The soloist laughed at something his friend next to him had said and he turned his head just slightly as he threw his head back. Kurt could see the strong curve of his jaw line, the way his eyes crinkled, his open mouth showing perfect teeth as he laughed.

"Wow." Kurt couldn't help the sigh that fell from his lips.

Mercedes grinned and gave him a knowing nudge of her elbow in his ribs and whispered in his ear, "He's cute."

A soft blush filled his cheeks. He was silently begging the boy to turn all the way around, but he lifted his chin up in greeting as he saw someone and then he ran to catch up with whoever he had seen. Kurt's eyes followed him until he was gone.

"Alright, Big Bird has flown."

Kurt threw a glance at her, snickering lightly. "What did you just call him?"

"Big Bird."

"Girl, are we really using code names?"

"Of course we are Raven."

"Raven?" She scoffed, then thought for a moment. "Well, they are one of the smartest birds, so I'll forgive the fact that you named me after a common crow. Can I ask what you're code name is?"

"Eagle." She said simply, which seemed to provoke Mercedes.

"Eagle? Because of its majestic beauty?" She snorted.

"No! I'm the eyes and ears of this mission," she hissed, "so I need to hover and make sure things don't go wrong."

"Whatever, Eagle."

Rachel turned her gaze back through the leaves on the bush and suddenly cried, "Oh no! They're leaving! Probably staring rehearsal soon. Go Sparrow go!"

Rachel was practically shoving Kurt out of their 'nest' and he had to scramble to stop himself from falling. Thankfully, the quad seemed to be mostly empty, except for the throng of boys that were making their way towards the unmistakable auditorium, their backs to him as they walked away.

He stood up a little taller and brushed off his pants and the front of his blazer, picking off a stray leaf that had managed to fall on his shoulder, and straightened his tie. Taking a deep breath, he allowed one last look at the strangely moving branches on the bush and smiled to himself before striding off in the direction of the auditorium.

Like everything at Dalton, Kurt quickly noticed the grandeur of the auditorium itself before he slipped inside. He had waited until the group of boys he had followed had been inside for five minutes before he went in. He'd had to stop himself from gaping at the exterior, with the intricately carved designs that reminded him of the beautiful buildings that were built in the very late 1800s. He'd been to towns up and down, surrounding and around Lima, but Dalton was a whole new world, a brand new place.

It was dark where he was, just inside the door, but the lights on the stage provided enough light so he could see where he was going. There were two levels of seats and Kurt realized he was on the second level. He chose a seat in the middle section and sat down in the very back row and smiled lightly. So far so good.

He peered down and saw that most of the Warblers were lounging around on the plush theater seats, listening to the slightly muffled sound of one of the three boys sitting on the stage, their legs dangling off the edge. Even up in the 'nosebleeds,' though he would hardly qualify these seats as such, he could tell that the acoustics would be fantastic, and any singing voice at all would carry beautifully.

He felt a twinge of jealousy. He'd give anything to be able to perform here.

A clap brought him out of his reverie and he saw all of the Warblers vacating their seats and moved to the stage, immediately lining up in two perfectly straight lines as though they were magnetized to their spots. He picked out the soloist right away. Blaine. He was walking up the front line, so Kurt could still only see the side of his face, but he had never in his life wanted to hear someone sing so badly. And Blaine fell into his place in the middle of the first line, head bent down to match his fellow Warblers. He clasped his hands in front of him and nodded his head slightly at the three Warblers who had been sitting on the stage, but now occupied the front row of auditorium seats. A hand raised up from the seats and the lights dimmed, and music began to play.

With the first beat of the song, the heads of all fourteen Warblers flicked up. Blaine began to sing as the other Warblers started background beats, but Kurt could not hear them. His entire being was grounded by the sight of this boy in the front. Grounded by Blaine. His heart thudded in his chest and, oh god, he could sing too.

You think I'm pretty without any make-up on

You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

I know you get me, so I let my walls come down

Down

Oh god, he could sing. Kurt had never heard a voice like his before. It was enticing, intoxicating.

Kurt found it hard to focus as he was finally able to see Blaine's face and even from this far away, he could see that this boy was beautiful. He was smiling as he sang, truly feeling the words and that alone, his smile, would have made Kurt's knees go weak, had he been standing.

Teenage Dream. He'd never been one for pop songs, but he had a whole new outlook on them now. He was pretty sure he'd listen to Blaine sing anything, just to hear his voice.

Blaine was gorgeous. Blaine was obviously popular. Blaine had a voice like an angel. Kurt sighed. It was too much to hope for that he was gay too. He couldn't have another Finn fiasco, so he shouldn't be thinking about Blaine in the way that he was.

As the song ended, Kurt found himself watching, almost hungrily, as the Warblers disbanded and crowded at the front of the stage. His eyes never left Blaine. He knew he was supposed to be looking for strategies or… or something like that to report back to Rachel, but it was kind of a lost cause. They were good. They were really good. But they'd seen them at Sectionals before and they were good then and they were better now. New Directions was going to have a lot of catching up to do.

One of the three Warblers was standing up, talking to the group and waving his hands around a bit. He could hear their voices almost perfectly now. Damn, these acoustics were awesome.

"No, Blaine, it sounded fine, but there's just something off about that formation at the end. Just… just go up to the balcony and watch it. Guys, take it from 'heart racing in my skin tight jeans.' The last verse."

The Warbler had started to look around him, on the ground and at the seats near him. There was a snicker.

"Wes, you don't need your gavel to make him go up there. He'll do it whether you whack that thing or not."

More laughter. The Warbler, Wes, looked up sharply. "Just get into your place. And hurry up!"

Kurt was too focused on what was going on to notice that where Blaine had been sent, the top balcony, happened to be where he was residing. By the time he saw the telltale smooth dark hair coming up the side stairs, it was too late for him to move. He sat, frozen like a deer in headlights, trying to make himself small so that he wouldn't be seen.

Blaine rounded the top of the stairs and walked to the middle aisle. He lifted his gaze and he paused, stopped mid-step. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to make out who was there, in the dark. Kurt had stopped breathing.

Blaine rocked back on his heels, his hands in his pockets, a knowing smile spreading across his beautiful face.

He didn't see you. Just don't move and you'll be fine. He didn't-

"Well, hello there."

Crap.

Blaine took a few more steps forward. He was two seat away from Kurt. He was caught red-handed and he knew it.

"Hi." He tried to sound nonchalant and confident, but his voice came out as a squeak.

Blaine took another step, leaning on the seat that was next to where Kurt was trying to disappear. What he wouldn't give to just be able to sink into the floor.

To his surprise, Blaine held out a hand. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

Kurt blinked and then took his hand, where it was shaken in a warm, strong grasp. "Kurt Hummel." Blaine let go, far too soon in Kurt's opinion, and then Kurt tried desperately to remember the story Rachel had made him practice for days. "I… I'm new here and… and I-"

The way Blaine's eyes sparkled made Kurt forget everything and he knew Blaine wasn't buying the feeble excuse anyway.

Blaine smiled at him, revealing his perfect teeth again, and asked, "Well, Kurt Hummel," Kurt's heart skipped a beat when he heard his name come from this boy's mouth and it stammered again when Blaine dropped his voice to a beautiful whisper that was both sultry and charming, "want to tell me the real reason you're here?"

Kurt swallowed. God, he couldn't lie. He was a terrible liar anyway, but being dazed by this perfect human being in front of him just wasn't fair. He didn't stand a chance, so he did the last thing Rachel had told him to do. He told the truth. "I'm from McKinley. In the Glee club." He sighed, knowing Rachel would kill him when, if, he was able to make it back to the parking lot. "I was sent to spy on you guys. Scope out the competition so to speak."

"Spy?" Blaine's brows pulled down and then his face broke out into a grin. "Why didn't we think of that? What'd you think of the song?"

Kurt felt his own face furrow in confusion. "You're not going to yell at me or kick me out?"

"Oh, I don't think we have to do that. Well, I'll have to convince Wes though. You know, you really are a terrible spy. You're supposed to run when someone's coming." Blaine winked at him, which made Kurt's stomach flip and he blushed, grateful for the dark lighting up here.

"I know," he grumbled, just as another voice sounded from below.

"Blaine! Everyone's been ready for two minutes! What the hell are you doing up there? We are not leaving until we finish blocking this song!"

There was a collective groan from the boys onstage, while Blaine made a face. "Hold on." He said to Kurt, and bounded over to the railing on the balcony and raised his voice to holler down, "Wes, come up here. We've got a bit of a situation."

"What? No! Don't tell him I'm here!" Kurt hissed, hiding his face in his hands.

"Are you serious Anderson? Whatever you're doing up there is more important than this?"

"I am dead serious Wes. Practice can wait for this."

There was a series of grumbles and a few cuss words emanating from the gavel-less boy, but nevertheless, he snapped, "Don't move!" to the Warblers, and stomped up the stairs after Blaine.

Kurt stared, heart slamming against his ribs, waiting. His muscles twitched, instinct doing everything in its power to make him get up and run out of there, but Blaine held out his arm, and Kurt found himself unable to move, held down by Blaine, though he didn't touch him.

He saw the blond hair of the angry boy and his heart dropped. He was done for.

"What is it Blaine? Someone had better be dying."

Blaine laughed, a sound that Kurt found very comforting even in his present situation. "Calm down Wes." Blaine turned to where Kurt was and indicated the seat next to him. "We have a visitor."

"Visitor?" Wes walked up to Blaine, intrigued.

"This is Kurt Hummel. He's from McKinely."

Kurt offered a weak smile.

"McKinley? Wait, I've seen him before. He's in their Glee club. Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes he has." Blaine said, before Kurt could open his mouth.

"What- Are you wearing a Dalton uniform?" Wes squinted at him.

"Oh, well, I-"

"Blaine! Did you know he was here?"

"I just found him." Blaine sounded so calm. How the hell was he calm right now?

"And you didn't ask him why he was wearing a Dalton uniform?" Wes turned his glare to Kurt. "Where did you get that uniform?"

"I-"

Once again, he was cut off by Blaine. "Wes, go easy on him."

"He's a spy Blaine! He's seen our best song. Now we have to change everything!"

"Calm down Wes. You're going to give yourself an aneurism." He looked at Kurt, who was beginning to relax around Blaine, now that he knew he wasn't going to be kidnapped and held for ransom. Well, at least Blaine seemed to be protecting him. "He didn't do any harm. And," he eyed Kurt again, "he won't tell anyone anything he saw. It was a pretty good strategy if you think about it."

"Yeah, which was why he got caught." Wes scoffed. He looked Kurt up and down and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, thinking. Sighing, he met Blaine's eyes. "You really think this won't harm our chances at Regionals?"

"No way."

"This is falling on you Anderson. We lose at Regionals because New Directions is suddenly hit with an urge to perform Teenage Dream, and you'll have a lot of pissed off Warblers."

"I understand that."

Wes sighed again. "You realize that means that you're jeopardizing even being in the Warblers right? Something happens because of this, and the council will have no choice but to kick you out."

Blaine's gaze did not waver. "Yes."

The councilmember shrugged his shoulders. "Alright." He addressed Kurt, "You can leave now."

Kurt stood, but Blaine stopped him.

"He's already seen this much. Let him stay."

Kurt's heart pounded. Wes looked like he was going to argue again, but then he seemed to deflate.

"Your funeral Anderson."

And Wes turned and headed back down the stairs.

Blaine smiled at him. "Sorry about him. He really cares about all of us, but he can come off as a bit of an asshole."

And Kurt found himself grinning back, despite having done the two things Rachel had warned him not to do: get caught and have them figure out he was a McKinley spy.

"Enjoy the show." Blaine winked at him again and set off after Wes, but paused at the top of the stairs. "I'm going to get coffee after rehearsal. You want to come?"

Kurt nodded and said, "Yes," hoping he didn't sound too eager. His mind had agreed before he could think this through. He couldn't fall for another straight guy. He just couldn't take that humiliation. But as he watched Blaine smile at his answer and head back down the stairs, he figured it was just a cup of coffee. What was the worst that could happen?

During the third song, Kurt's phone began to vibrate, sending a shock of worry through him. He'd forgotten about Rachel and Mercedes.

What are you doing? You were supposed to listen to two songs and come back! –Eagle

He laughed at Rachel's silly code name.

Change of plans. Going for coffee. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Tell you about it later.

He felt like he was five again, as he signed 'Sparrow' and snapped his phone shut.

"What's he doing?" Mercedes asked, shuffling through the playlist on her ipod.

"I can't believe this. What the hell does he think he's doing?"

Rachel thrust her phone under Mercedes's nose and crossed her arms over her chest as Mercedes read.

"Coffee? Who do you think he's going with?"

"Who do you think?" Rachel practically screeched and snatched her phone back. "With one of them obviously. He's ruining our entire plan. They probably know everything and are planning revenge. Oh, god. You don't think they'd kidnap him do you?"

And Mercedes actually laughed, obviously not seeing the devastation this was going to create.

"Calm your horses girl. He's just going for coffee. My boy won't spill every secret to them." Her eyes widened. "I bet he's going with Blaine!"

"Mercedes, this is horrible! I don't know how you're not seeing this…"

Mercedes sighed and let her rant. "That's my boy." She whispered and smiled.

"So, Kurt, have you ever been to a private school before?"

Kurt looked at Blaine over his coffee cup, still unable to believe his luck. Before, he thought getting caught was the worst thing that could have happened, but it turned out to be the best. "It's amazing. I mean, I would give anything to perform in that auditorium. And everything about Dalton is beautiful."

Blaine laughed lightly. "Hmmm…. Guess I kind of forget that not everyone is used to being there."

"How long have you been going there?"

"Since freshman year. I'm a junior now. You're a junior at McKinley?"

"Yeah." And Kurt couldn't help the gloomy tone that came to his voice as he thought of the school that because of bullying, he was now afraid of.

Blaine cocked his head to the side, lowering his drink. "You don't sound happy about that."

Kurt sighed. He shouldn't be telling someone he barely knew his problems, especially the 'enemy' as Rachel had called him, but Kurt felt strangely comfortable around Blaine and he almost wanted to tell him because he knew that Blaine would not judge or laugh or make him feel bad.

"It… I'm not happy there. I haven't been for a while."

"What changed?"

Kurt bit his lip, but he could tell Blaine. "I'm kind of a favorite target of the football team." When Blaine's lips pressed together, he explained further. "This one kid picks on me all the time, shoving me into lockers, throwing me into dumpsters, chucking slushies in my face."

"Kurt, have you told anyone about this?" Blaine's eyes were smoldering with concern. Kurt had never met anyone who seemed to care this much about him, and he'd just met Blaine.

"It wouldn't change anything. And, it's not that bad. It's just been… bad lately. The past few weeks."

"It's bad enough that you're hating going to school. Do you know why he's targeting you?"

Kurt's fingers threaded together. It had been hard enough to tell his father that he was gay, and though both him and the Glee club accepted him, he wasn't sure if it was worth ruining what was turning out to be a good friendship. What if Blaine thought he was a freak too?

But he remembered how easily Blaine had been able to catch him in his earlier lie and he felt safe here.

He took a breath and matched Blaine's gaze as he told him, "I'm gay."

"He messes with you because you're gay?"

Anger seemed to flash through Blaine's eyes.

"Yeah. I mean, I kind of ask for it, I guess, with the way I dress, but it still hurts."

"Kurt, I… you…" Blaine seemed lost for words. "You shouldn't have to be scared to go to school. And I can't believe the school isn't doing anything about that kid. Picking on you because you're gay? That's not right."

Kurt sighed. "I don't want to put my dad through any more than he's been through and bringing that up would just make him worry over things he doesn't need to worry about. I can handle this. There isn't much I can do anyway."

Blaine opened his mouth and closed it again, eyebrows pulling down. After a little while, he slowly spoke again. "Well, there is one thing you could do. Just a though, but you could consider transferring to Dalton."

Going to Dalton? It hadn't even crossed Kurt's mind because it was a private school and it cost a lot of money.

"There's a no-bullying policy and no one there has been bullied because they're gay. It's really been nice, for me at least."

A no-bullying policy. Kurt could almost picture himself at Dalton, smiling and happy and not afraid. Suddenly, the stiff white uniform shirt didn't seem that bad. Then something Blaine said caught up with him.

"Nice for you? Are you… I mean…" Kurt shifted uncomfortably. He didn't want to assume.

But Blaine just smiled at him. "I'm gay too."

Kurt's heart stopped. But this time, it was in disbelief. This boy was perfect. And he was gay.

"It's… wow. No one's ever shoved you in a locker? Or called you a name?"

"Never." Blaine's smile fell. "And the fact that you think that that's something normal is awful. Kurt, you don't deserve to go through what you're having to go through now. Public school can be a pretty terrible place; I did go to public middle school before going to Dalton for high school. I was supposed to go to the local high school, but the bullying at middle school got so bad that I just couldn't face spending four more years where I was free game to be harassed."

He did understand. He had been bullied too.

"That sounds amazing."

Blaine smiled, and then the thoughtful look appeared on his face again. "Have you ever tried standing up to the bully?"

Kurt looked down and Blaine took that as answer enough.

"Every bully I've encountered has been scared and insecure. Maybe if you stand up to him, show him that he doesn't scare you and nothing he says can change the way you feel about yourself, it'll make him back down. Sometimes a little courage can go a long way."

"You think so?"

"Of course." He winked and Kurt's heart fluttered. "You deserve better than that Kurt."

He held Kurt's gaze until forced to look away because his cell phone was buzzing in his pocket. He glanced at the text and gave Kurt a gaze full of apology.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I have to go. Wes probably wants to know how many songs I told you we're performing and what the arrangements are." He shook his head as he laughed and then stood up. "I'm really glad I caught you spying Kurt," he said sincerely. "And it was really nice talking to you. Maybe we can get coffee again sometime?"

Kurt barely felt himself nodding as he accepted Blaine's phone number hastily scribbled on the receipt of their coffee orders. He smiled up at Blaine, who returned his smile with a warm grin that crinkled the corners of his hazel eyes so gorgeously.

"And I guarantee you that Dalton is a safe place. You won't ever have to worry about being bullied again, if you decide to transfer there. We'd be glad to have you."

Kurt's heart fluttered again. Blaine would be glad to have him there.

The dark haired boy turned to leave, but rapped his hand lightly on the table and faced him again.

"Oh, and have the short brunette girl take the uniform back to the laundry room as soon as possible or Wes may just burst another blood vessel."

Kurt smiled. "Will do. Sorry about that. I didn't know she was going to steal it."

"It's not a problem. It looks good on you." Blaine grinned and lightly touched Kurt's hand before he left.

Kurt looked down at his hands. His fingers still tingled where Blaine's fingers had made contact with his.

He smiled and folded the receipt that contained Blaine's number.

And he couldn't help but thing that getting caught may have been the best thing to ever happen to him.


	3. I'll die in the clouds above

It had been a few days since Kurt had met Blaine at that coffee shop. And Kurt could still not pluck up the confidence to call him. He couldn't count the number of times he'd held the wrinkled receipt in his sweaty palm, eyes tracing the hastily written numbers until he didn't even need to look at the number to have called because he had it memorized.

Every time he picked up the phone, he held the piece of paper in his hand and before he could punch in the first number, his mind began throwing sneers at him that made him lose confidence.

He was just being nice. Friends give each other phone numbers. Don't get your hopes up.

But he smiled at me. And he seemed so… nice.

See? Nice.

But he touched my hand before he left.

He was way over thinking things and he did not want to screw this up. He sighed as he carefully folded the receipt again and slipped it into the zippered pocket of the jacket he'd chosen to wear that day.

This week had been okay. Karofsky had targeted him once in three days. The other times Kurt saw him and flinched away, the bully seemed to not see him, or else, what was even stranger, avoid him. And the only thing Karofsky had said to him was on Monday.

"Nice shirt lady face."

That was all he'd said. Four words. And not even a shove or a slushie shower. Kurt began to relax. He held his head higher as he walked down the halls. He stopped glancing behind him when he strayed by his locker. He sang better in rehearsals. He dressed how he pleased and did not worry about getting dumpster perfumed because Karofsky was the one who initiated everything, while the other football players, minus Finn, just followed along. And with his assailant suddenly avoiding him, Kurt was free to actually enjoy school.

He almost called Blaine to tell him that he wasn't being bullied anymore. Almost. He'd dialed the first five digits when he chickened out and hung up. Blaine wouldn't want to be bothered by his silly problems.

But as much as Kurt was loving being left alone at McKinley, he'd been thinking a lot about Dalton. The school was like nothing he'd ever seen before. He found his thoughts drifting to the intricately carved designs on the trimming of the buildings, the immaculate grass in the courtyard, the auditorium with the sound system that would make even Mike sound like an angel, the uniform clad boys lounging around and laughing, the general happiness of it all. And Blaine. Kurt thought a lot about Blaine.

And one night, the boy that filled his thoughts suddenly invaded his dreams too. Not that Kurt minded though.

Kurt was lounging on a very comfy chair, though he couldn't see it. The chair seemed to be engulfed in some sort of mist, or fog.

Or cloud?

The chair was covered in clouds. Or it was made of clouds. Either way it was so soft that Kurt would never want to get up. But something hit his ears. It was a sound that made his heart sigh with happiness. He looked up. What was that sound? And he left his comfy chair, to find himself standing on a cloud. He looked behind him and the chair was gone, swiftly disappearing into the night air. He frowned. He'd have to find another one now.

But the sweet sound that seemed to be calling to him made him forget all about the chair. He took a step into the swirling fog at his feet. The misty air he was standing on suddenly dropped a few inches and he gasped in surprise, arms flailing, but he did not drop straight through the cloud as he'd feared. No, he'd simply sunken a bit. As he took another ginger step forward, he felt the next step drop too. The pounding in his chest receded as he realized that the swirling cloud was creating a staircase at his every step. He didn't know where the beautiful sound was coming from, but he assumed the cloud knew better than he did because as he descended lower, his ears pricked at the swelling hum.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd heard in his life. He honestly just thought he could die right now, engulfed in this most comfortable cloud and if the last thing he heard was the rising murmur, he would be okay with that. But even more, he wanted to know the source of the sound. So he kept following the staircase, jumping a bit when his toes hit solid ground. He wiggled his toes in the cool grass, slightly wet with dew. He lifted his feet, not making a sound as he crossed the expanse of grass in front of him as he listened for the sound again. And there it was. He closed his eyes and began to blindly follow the hum.

The grass was wet and he knew his feet would be muddy and disgusting, but he cared little about the state of his feet right now. The sound was so loud it must have been right in front of him. Heart pulsing with excitement, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that he was looking down at his feet. Which were strangely not muddy in the slightest. He saw his pale skin almost seeming to glow against the emerald green of the foliage under the pads of his feet. He looked up and there it was. The source of the sound.

Kurt's eyes were immediately drawn to the beauty of this boy. He had soft pale skin that seemed to be glowing as well. His eyes were wide, hazel irises flecked with gold staring back at him. He wore nothing but a white garment that was almost like a toga, his glowing chest, arms, and legs rippled with muscle underneath the luminescent skin. His black curly hair was silky and shining as it tumbled in soft tendrils over his forehead.

Kurt had never seen anyone in his life that was so beautiful. The gorgeous sound that had lured him here in the first place was still in his ears and Kurt realized that it was the boy who was humming.

Entranced, Kurt smiled and took a step forward, whispering, "Blaine," because somehow, he knew this boy's name before it had been told to him. The boy's head gently moved back and forth, causing his curls to sway lightly. His soft pink lips were trembling as he sang.

Trembling?

Kurt's eyes left the perfect lips to stare up into his eyes. His wide hazel eyes stared back, shimmering with the unmistakable shine of tears. The tear tracks on his pale cheeks were shining as though encrusted with thousands of tiny diamonds. And still, he sang on.

Kurt frowned again. Why was he crying?

He opened his mouth to phrase this question when he suddenly realized that he was tied up. Blaine was bound to a tree with a trunk the width of his entire body, a thick silver rope wrapped many times around his middle and over his arms at the elbows. Blaine did not struggle, did not even seem to notice the binds that held him. He continued to sing, with the tears dripping over his lips, eyes wide and begging. Pleading. He shook his head again as the melody was repeated.

Kurt wanted to help him. He needed his help. Kurt looked around wildly for something to cut the rope with. He realized with a start that he was wearing the same thing that Blaine was. A simple fold of cloth resembling a toga that brushed lightly against his skin as he moved. His was a pale blue. The outfit was beautiful, but it did not come with a knife or anything useful. He stared at the ground, hoping to find a sharp rock, but his head flicked back up when the tone of Blaine's song changed.

It was no longer soft and beckoning. This song was full of fear. He looked into Blaine's tear filled eyes.

And before he could ask him what he needed, a figure stepped out from the hundreds of other trees that had appeared around him. He was shorter than Kurt, bigger, with short dark hair and a menacing face. He too wore a garment that matched Kurt and Blaine's, but his was made of a rippling black fabric. He glared.

Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat. No.

The figure moved swiftly through the trees. Towards Blaine. Towards his Blaine. He opened his mouth to yell at him to stop when he caught sight of the boy tied to the tree.

He was no longer singing and it was utterly silent. Even the figure stalking amongst the trees made no sound. Blaine looked at him with pleading eyes and shook his head, telling him not to move.

And Kurt obeyed. He stayed frozen on the spot, though everything in his being told him to run, to protect Blaine.

The burly form of the person dressed in black appeared next to Blaine. He stared at Blaine's face greedily. He looked him up and down slowly. Blaine did not move a muscle. The tears slowly fell from his open eyes.

Blaine did not even flinch as he reached up and softly stroked his rough palm down the side of his face. But Kurt did. His hands clenched, but he did not take his eyes off of Blaine's, as though some powerful force was not letting him look away.

The black-dressed figure removed his hand and the ropes fell away, disappeared in a soft flash of white smoke. Blaine stumbled forward and Kurt had to fight every instinct that screamed at him to rush up and catch him. But Blaine did not fall, regained his balance and stood up taller. He kept his eyes on Kurt's, never wavering.

The man strode up to Blaine, the glow emanating from his skin seemed almost blinding as the tears began to fall faster. So slowly, barely noticeable, Blaine shook his head, begging Kurt not to do anything, his startling eyes pleading again.

"You're too late Hummel."

The voice from the man next to Blaine was soft, as if telling him something that a five-year old would need to understand. But his words were deafening in the silence of the forest.

"You're too late. He's mine."

A sneer appeared on the menacing face and for the first time, Blaine reacted. He tensed, every muscle stiff. He looked like a frightened deer caught in the glaring headlights, unable to move, unable to run. A large hand reached up and laid on the back of Blaine's head. Kurt's stomach dropped and for a terrible moment, he thought the man was going to shove Blaine, throw him down, hurt him.

He's mine, he'd said. Did that mean Blaine was his new target? His new 'lady boy' to pick on?

The other hand reached up, stopping on Blaine's waist. Kurt froze.

Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him.

Blaine stared at him with desperate eyes and Kurt knew he was asking him to not do anything. And Kurt felt his heart stop as the man suddenly pulled Blaine in, arm wrapping around the small of his back, hand tangling in the gorgeous curls. And he kissed him.

Their lips moved together, eyes closed in the silence that pierced around Kurt, deafening in his ears like a buzz that would not go away. The man clutched at Blaine, pulling him even closer, who had his arms wrapped lightly around the wide shoulders. They kissed in a passionate embrace, though Kurt knew Blaine did not do it willingly.

He's mine.

********

Kurt woke with a start, heart thudding in his chest. A cold sweat drenched his brow and his fingers tingled. His stomach dropped and he had to take deep breaths, flicking on his bedside lamp. He closed his eyes.

It was just a dream. Just a dream. Karofsky would never have Blaine. It was just a dream.

He groaned and threw off the covers, feeling like his skin was crawling. Kurt sighed as he trudged to his bathroom to take a shower and scrub off this gross sheen of sweat that coated his forehead.

Karofsky will never have Blaine, Kurt thought firmly as he stood under the warm water, lathering his washcloth with soap and rubbing it over his arms as he shivered, his gut twisting as he remembered the way he felt when he'd seen Karofsky kissing Blaine.

He's mine.


	4. And you that I defend, I do not love

Karofsky had been avoiding Kurt and it had been blissfully surreal. But he knew it was too good to last. Karofsky was avoiding him for a reason, and he didn't know if he wanted to know the reason. For now, he just let himself enjoy being at McKinley without fear, wearing the gorgeous Marc Jacobs white jacket that he'd had for months but hadn't worn because he was worried he'd get slushied or tossed in the trash.

It was too good to last. He knew it and he was just waiting for the time when his luck would run out.

It came on a Thursday. Kurt was walking to his locker after spending a heaven-sent week without being even looked at by his tormenter.

And his luck ran out.

Karofsky barreled past Kurt, and with one large hand, shoved him hard without warning. Kurt was propelled sideways, nearly knocking over another student in his fall, and the left side of his body slammed against the metal, the resulting clang echoing horribly. A lock dug into his forearm and he stifled a scream as it dug into his arm painfully. But he was not able to stop the gasp that fell from his lips. He groaned and sunk to the floor, the tears pricking in his eyes. His right arm wrapped around to gingerly feel his bruised left arm as it had begun to throb. His brows furrowed and he looked up, seeing the retreating form of Karofsky disappearing in the direction of the locker rooms.

Not again. He couldn't take this anymore. Blaine had told him he should stand up to his bully. That all of the bullies he'd encountered were weak and scared. Blaine had told him that a little courage could go a long way.

Courage.

Kurt sniffed and narrowed his eyes, wiping away the tears before they could fall. And he pushed himself up and ran after Karofsky, yelling, "Hey!"

Kurt had always been fast and he caught up with the bully as he rounded the corner in the locker room. Running on adrenaline, Kurt yelled again.

"Hey!"

Karofsky did not move. Kurt strode up to him, drawing himself up to his full height, ready to confront the person who'd made his days at McKinley a living hell.

"What the hell is your problem?"

The words fell from Kurt's mouth before he had a chance to think about this. He was running after the person who constantly pushed him, taunted him, hurt him. And they were alone in the locker room. Karofsky could beat him up and no one would hear unless they came in, which was unlikely because there were no practices until after school. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, made him breathe harder, made a flush darken the apples of his cheeks.

Karofsky didn't move, just continued to stare at the lockers. Kurt did not notice the way his hands clenched at his sides, did not realize that in mere seconds, he could have strong fist meeting delicate face with no one there to stop it. Not that anyone would have anyway. It seemed like the only people who even cared about him were in Glee club.

"Well?" Kurt asked, voice high with anger.

The bully closed his eyes and opened them again, glaring now at the lockers and if he could, Kurt was sure he would have burned a hole through the metal with the force of his glare.

And Kurt laughed. "Oh, so now you have nothing to say? Funny, I thought you could have come up with some sort of insult that you pelt me with daily. Speaking of which, is there a reason you stopped for that utterly peaceful week and then decided to shove me again without even looking at me? And why won't you look at me now?"

Kurt frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "What, are you scared you're going to 'catch the gay'? Well I've got news for you. I can't change who I am and I wouldn't even if I could so you need to back off or else figure out why you constantly have that stick up your ass and figure out your damn issues with me because I'm so close to bringing this to the principal. Got it?"

And to Kurt's surprise, David Karofsky was not fighting back. He did not say a word, even his glare had softened. Instead, he turned to face Kurt.

Kurt was waiting for it. For the insult slinging to begin. Lady face, fairy boy, porcelain, fancy, lady lips, lady boy. He'd heard them all and he lifted his chin a little higher, showing him he was not afraid.

Kurt was holding his breath for the name-calling, perhaps another shove, but what he was not expecting was for Karofsky to lean forward, press his large hands to the sides of Kurt's face and kiss him.

Kurt kept his eyes open. He was too stunned to move. His body tensed. He didn't want this. This was not how his first kiss was supposed to go.

Karofsky pulled away and Kurt's hand immediately lifted up, pressing his finger against his slightly parted lips. He took a step back, heart racing in his chest.

What the hell just happened?

Karofsky looked like he was going to cry. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, reaching a hand up as if he was going to touch Kurt, and then he drew his palm away, opening his mouth again.

And Kurt thought he was going to confess. Kurt thought Karofsky was going to tell Kurt he was gay. The words were on the tip of his tongue. But then the dark eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. He took a few steps closer to Kurt. He loomed over him, all of his hatred blazing in his eyes.

Karofsky finally found his voice and he spoke slowly, menacingly.

"You tell anyone, anyone, what happened here and I swear, I will kill you. You breathe one word of this, and you're dead. You got that?"

Kurt just nodded wordlessly, feeling his blood turn to ice.

Karofsky leaned back, nodded curtly, seeming to believe him. And he took a step back, turning away from Kurt to face the lockers, breathing heavily. His muscles tightened and in a flash of rage, his hand shot out. Kurt recoiled, a soft gasp caught in his throat. But the fist did not connect with Kurt's soft flesh, as he'd feared. The metallic bang rung out in the silent locker room as his hand struck the locker.

Kurt heard an angry groan and then Karofsky ran out, leaving Kurt in stunned silence.

He'd have to stay quiet. He couldn't say anything about this. He had no doubt that if Karofsky could not make good on his threat, he would at least beat him up badly. And he would prefer to keep his face the way it was.

Things suddenly made so much sense. Karofsky was gay. He was confused and angry and so far in the closet, he was probably in Narnia. That's why he picked on Kurt. Because he could relate and because if he picked on the gay kid, no one would ever think that he himself could be gay and he could continue to hide.

Kurt could still feel the needy, almost crushing, force of Karofsky's lips on his own. The tears welled in Kurt's eyes. His first kiss had been stolen from him. He hadn't wanted it. He was angry at what Karofsky had done, but in spite of it all, he felt pity towards him.

Kurt did not love him, didn't even really like him, and he found himself having to defend David Karofsky: Kurt Hater. He could keep secrets, he'd always been good at keeping secrets, but this was going to be hard. As odd as it sounded, he wanted to help him. Maybe if he could get him to come out about who he didn't want to believe he was, Karofsky would be happier. And he wouldn't bully Kurt anymore. This could be a win-win situation. But Kurt would need help. He couldn't do this alone; he knew that.

He had to enlist help. And the only person he could think of, he couldn't even get up the courage to call.

But he could to this. He could call Blaine. Maybe not tell him about the kiss, maybe not tell him for a while, but he could call Blaine and ask to go for coffee again. Calling him was the first step in this domino-effect that would hopefully end in Kurt not having to fear Karofsky ever again.

And despite being shoved, harassed, having his first kiss stolen from him, and his life threatened all in the same day, Kurt Hummel smiled.


	5. I wake up, it's a bad dream

"Blaine?"

"Oh hey, Kurt. What's up?"

"Can… can I… can I talk to you?"

Kurt heard the phone rustle on the other end of the line. He imagined Blaine tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he straightened his perfect tie.

"Yeah, always. What's going on?"

Always. Kurt's heart gave a happy flutter. Blaine's voice had changed to one of slight concern at Kurt's tone. If Kurt hadn't been so paranoid as to the reason he was calling, he would have been overjoyed with the fact that he had been able to get up the courage to call him in the first place.

"Um, well actually…" God, why was it so hard to form a coherent sentence? "I was wondering if we could talk in person. If that's okay, I mean."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Absolutely. Are you free," there was a pause, "in twenty minutes? Sorry if that's too short notice. Rehearsal ends at four today. If that doesn't work, we can always-"

"No, no. That's fine. That's perfect actually."

"Alright then. Meet me at the Lima Bean in twenty?" There was a smile in Blaine's voice.

"Yeah, sure thing." Kurt felt himself shaking.

There was a lingering pause, but neither boy hung up. Then Blaine asked, "Hey Kurt?" And his voice had dropped low and there was slight worry in his words. "Did something happen?"

"I-" Kurt sighed. "I just really need to talk to you."

"Okay." Blaine's reply was immediate. "I'll see you soon."

*******

"Grande nonfat mocha for this guy and a medium drip."

Kurt's eyes widened.

"You know my coffee order?" He leaned towards Blaine and whispered.

He turned his head and smiled as he pulled out the money from his wallet. "Of course I do."

Kurt grabbed his wallet, but to his surprise, Blaine held his hand lightly over Kurt's. "Don't even bother dummy. I've got this."

No one had ever bought him coffee before. He could only mouth a stunned 'thank you' to Blaine as the dark-haired boy led him over to a table by the window.

Blaine smiled at him as they sat down and immediately, Kurt felt all the worry that had seemed to settle on his skin disappear.

"I like that color on you."

Kurt looked down. He was wearing a light blue and grey striped scarf today. He smiled lightly and felt his cheeks get warm. "Thank you. Is it sad that my favorite weather is when it gets cold so I can showcase my collection of scarves?"

"Not at all." Blaine agreed. "I have a small collection myself, though nowhere near as fashionable as yours, I'm sure."

"Give me half an hour at Bloomingdales and I'm sure we'll be able to remedy that problem."

Blaine laughed and then looked up as he heard his name called. "Be right back." He said and got up to grab their coffees from the counter.

He handed the cup to Kurt and then sat back down again, wrapping his hands around his drink.

It was silent for a moment and Kurt felt his heart hammer in his chest. He stared down at his coffee, then popped off the lid and set it aside, watching the steam from his drink rise in a silver mist. Kurt twirled the stirring stick between his fingers and then swirled it around in his coffee.

"Kurt?"

His head snapped up. Blaine was looking at him from under his dark eyelashes, his elbow on the table with his coffee cup held in his hand, poised at his perfect lips.

"I asked you if you were alright."

"Oh, um… yeah. Fine." He didn't know why these lies kept slipping from his mouth. And apparently Blaine didn't either.

"I don't believe that Kurt. Tell me the truth?"

And Kurt knew then why he had lied. It was what he'd always done. He'd gotten used to lying. Someone asks if he's okay and the first thing out of his mouth is 'fine.' No, he's not fine. But it was easier to lie than to have to explain what was going on and he knew nothing would change it anyway. So he had lied. But Blaine was different. Kurt thought that Blaine truly cared about him. That he might actually listen to what he had to say and try to help him.

He sighed. "The truth… the truth is I'm not okay."

Blaine nodded, encouraging him to go on.

Kurt kept his eyes on his drink, though he lowered his hand, left the stir stick leaning up against the side of the drink that he had yet to take one sip of.

"Something did happen. No one else knows. And no one else can know." Then Kurt looked up, hoping that Blaine understood the seriousness of what he was about to tell him. "I'm risking a lot even telling you, but I just don't know who else to talk to. And I thought that it might be okay because we go to different schools…"

Blaine leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving Kurt's. "Is this about that bully?"

Kurt hadn't hoped that Blaine would remember. No one ever seemed to notice Karofsky's torments, even when they happened in front of their faces. And he'd just mentioned it to Blaine and he had recalled it.

"You remembered?"

"Of course I do. Kurt, that bully is harassing you all the time, hurting you, making you scared to go to school. Did you think I wouldn't remember?" He seemed kind of hurt that Kurt hadn't expected him to be thinking of it, as if it didn't matter.

"No one else seems to." Kurt whispered.

"Kurt." Blaine's hand was on top of his in a heartbeat and Kurt raised his eyes to meet Blaine's, hardly daring to believe that this was real. "Did he hurt you?"

And the concern in Blaine's voice almost made Kurt want to cry. No one, no one, had ever seemed to care this much about him.

"N-no. Well, not in the literal sense, I guess." Kurt closed his eyes briefly and sighed, feeling Karofsky's threat ring in his ears. You tell anyone and I'll kill you. As if he thought the walls had ears, Kurt's voice was so low that Blaine had to lean forward even more to hear him. "He kissed me."

Blaine froze, his eyes locked on Kurt's, asking without words if what he said was really true. He knew that Kurt wouldn't lie to him, but he needed confirmation. And the way that Kurt's eyes swam with tears was confirmation enough.

"God." Blaine groaned and sat back in his chair, then scooted it up closer to the table. He reached over and took Kurt's other hand, holding both of his cold hands in his own. "I'm so sorry Kurt. I can see that really hurt you."

Kurt blinked furiously, not wanting to remove his hands from Blaine's, but being on the dangerous verge of having his tears flow over. "It's okay," he whispered.

"No it's not Kurt. It's not okay. Even if it didn't hurt you this much, it's still not okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

He looked down and when he had his tears under control, he began slowly, noticing that Blaine's gaze never wavered and the hands never left his own.

"For a week, he didn't do anything. He called me a name, but that was once in a whole week. And it started to feel like maybe he'd gotten over his hatred of me and I started to feel safe. And then on Friday, he didn't say a word, just came up and shoved me so hard I fell against the lockers. I was so shocked and upset and so angry, and without thinking, I followed him and went to confront him. I told myself I had to be brave and not let him do this to me anymore. So I followed him into the locker rooms and yelled at him to stop picking on me and he was quiet and then he kissed me. And he said if I ever told anyone, he'd kill me. Then he punched a locker and left."

Blaine's grip on Kurt's hands tightened considerably. "He said he'd kill you if you told anyone?"

All Kurt could do was nod. And suddenly his hands were empty as Blaine pushed his fingers through his curly hair, sighing.

"You should tell someone. Your parents, the principle, a teacher? Someone needs to know about this."

"Someone does." Kurt whispered, knowing it was a feeble excuse and Blaine saw right through it.

"I don't count. It wouldn't hurt to just-"

"It wouldn't matter. The school won't do anything."

"How do you-"

"I just do."

Blaine leaned his elbows on the table, angling his body towards Kurt more. "Kurt, I hate that you feel like you don't matter. This is a big deal. Threats like that could get him suspended or even expelled. Has he tormented you so much that you don't think that it's worth telling someone? You matter so much more than that Kurt."

Kurt was silent. He didn't know what to say. Because in his heart, he knew that Blaine was right. He had been telling himself that it didn't matter, that he was overreacting, and there was a part of him that believed Karofsky would keep to his threat.

"You're thinking about this a lot." Blaine continued softly. "Do you mind me asking why you came to me now and not earlier?"

Kurt bit his lip. He knew the reason that this hurt him so much, but he did not want Blaine to think that he was being stupid.

"There has to be some reason that you wanted to talk to me now." Blaine coaxed gently. "This stays between us, you know that right? I'll never tell anyone if you don't want me to."

And Kurt felt ashamed tears sting his eyes again. This shouldn't be that big of a deal, but to him, it was. "I know it's stupid, but… he took my first kiss," he confessed in a soft voice.

"Oh Kurt." And he heard true sympathy in Blaine's voice. "It's not stupid. It's not. It would hurt anyone. I'm so sorry."

Kurt felt himself nod, still hardly daring to believe that Blaine was here, listening to him, and actually caring about what happened to him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

He lifted his eyes and to his surprise, a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "You've sat here and listened to me for the past hour, you bought me coffee, you spent time with me without asking me advice on what to wear on your next date or school dance. And that's enough, Blaine."

The curly-haired boy's eyebrows pulled down slightly. "Kurt, this isn't anything. This is me being a good friend. Are you telling me this doesn't happen very often?"

Kurt's eyes glanced down. "Blaine, this has never happened."

Blaine let out a breath. "Well, we're just going to have to change that. Call me whenever you want to and I'll meet you here or wherever you want okay? Just to talk or hang out or whatever. You deserve so much more than what you think."

Kurt couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face and he saw Blaine break out in a grin and that only made him smile wider.

Lately, his life had felt like a nightmare. But now, he was beginning to see that things could get better. All it had taken was a little confidence from one person and Kurt knew that Blaine was the best thing that could have ever happened in his life right now.


	6. No one on my side

Kurt had felt so much better after he told Blaine what had happened. But in his mind, he couldn't help but still be afraid. He was still worried about school and Karofsky. There was the lingering thought in his mind that he wanted to ask Burt and Carole if he could transfer to Dalton. Even being there as a spy, he'd felt safer within those walls than he ever had at McKinley since Karofsky's bullying got this bad. But he knew that they didn't have the money to send him there. His only chance was that the school offered scholarships of some kind, but he didn't want to get his hopes up when he knew that this wouldn't work out either, like everything else in his life at the moment. Except for Blaine.

Blaine had been more of a friend to him than he could have ever thought possible.

And he just felt so alone right now.

He hadn't seen Blaine since he'd asked him to coffee, a week ago, and though he was able to keep himself happy with remembering Blaine's smile and the way he touched his hand, after a few days, the cold reality started to creep back in. He was on constant edge, scared to go around the corners for fear of Karofsky's sneering face meeting him there. His eyes darted back and forth when he stopped by his locker, not daring to stay any longer than he needed to. Unless he was with a friend. Mercedes walked with him to most of his classes and when he was with her, or Rachel, or any other member of the Glee club, he felt safe. He relaxed. But they could not follow him forever. There were times when he had to walk alone and then, he longed for the comforting walls of Dalton and the warm fingers of Blaine curled around his own.

Blaine had not forgotten about him. He'd sent him random texts that made Kurt's days a little brighter, mainly asking how his day was going or little things that didn't really mean much, but to Kurt, meant everything in the world.

Wes looks like he's going to have a heart attack.- B

Kurt laughed as he read the text.

What about this time?- K

I hid his gavel.- B

Kurt grinned. For some reason Blaine loved to annoy Wes. Kurt hadn't actually seen Wes annoyed since the Teenage Dream rehearsal, but he imagined that it was funny because Blaine really didn't have any other reason to keep provoking him.

He's looking everywhere for it and won't start the meeting until he can find it-B

Where did you hide it oh wise one?- K

I can't tell you that little penguin!- B

Kurt chuckled at the name. Blaine had taken to calling him that. Kurt had no idea why, but he really didn't care. This was one nickname that he didn't mind getting called.

Fine. You win. It's on the very top shelf opposite the council table. Had to get a ladder but it was worth it.- B

Wes's obsession with his gavel was quite comical. Kurt saw a hint of it during Teenage Dream, but he didn't really know the extent to which Wes would go to make sure he had something with which to call the Warblers to order. He pictured the Warblers hanging around, talking, laughing, texting, while Wes bopped around frantically in search of his gavel.

You really shouldn't do that, just for your own selfish humor.- K

No harm done really. I could sneak it in your bag next time we're together, if you'd prefer.- B

A blush filled Kurt's cheeks and he smiled. Next time. Blaine wanted to see him again. He really didn't know if this was a dream or not. It felt like a dream. Things like this just never happened.

I'll be sure to check before I leave then.- K

Oh god Kurt! David has a metal water bottle and Wes made him give it to him so he could use it as a replacement.- B

Kurt snickered.

Would it be too much to say 'I told you so?'- K

Oh the metallic echoing! My ears! It hurts! Make it stop!- B

Stop being such a baby. You brought this upon yourself.- K

But I really am sorry.-K

And I hope your ears don't fall off.- K

Or you lose your sense of hearing.- K

There was a pause and then Kurt's phone began sending out a series of pinging noises as Blaine's texts came buzzing in.

I suppose I did.- B

But it was funny. That counts for something right?- B

Me too. I wouldn't be anywhere near the heartthrob I am without them.- B

Yeah. Then we wouldn't be able to meet for coffee anymore. Unless you learned sign language.-B

Nick just pointed it out. Wes is making David and me get the ladder to get it down. Damn. He knows it was me.- B

Kurt hoped that Wes wasn't too mad. But things like that seemed to happen a lot, so Kurt thought that Wes might be used to it by now? Though the Warblers took their singing very seriously, Kurt had gotten the impression from Blaine that they were a very different group of people once they left the stage. Apparently, practical jokes were a favorite amongst the teens, with the main target being Wes because they knew he wouldn't really get mad. Annoyed? Sure. Threatening? Yes. Mad? No.

Thus, a perfect target.

Well I hope that he goes easy on you. I'd like for you to be alive tomorrow.- K

Me too. Otherwise we wouldn't be able to go to our dinner date on Friday.- B

Kurt froze. Huh?

I don't recall a dinner date being talked about. When did this get planned?- K

Just now. I think it'll be fun. Can you go?- B

It seemed like if he smiled any bigger, his mouth would freeze up and stay there. But he didn't care. Blaine had just asked him on a date. And even if it wasn't an official date, he was going to dinner with Blaine!

I'd love to.- K

Fantastic.- B

I'm sorry I have to go. Wes is threatening to take away my solo if I don't stop David trying to hit him with the ladder.- B

I'll text you later.- B

Okay. Talk to you then. Have fun with what's left of rehearsal.- K

And Kurt grinned again. Earlier in the week, he had felt so alone, but now, these little things, these texts from Blaine, had made him happy. It was amazing how these simple messages from Blaine were able to take all of the monotony of being worried all the time and completely change how he felt.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of Glee practice and Kurt walked all the way across the school with a smile on his face. Nothing could touch him. He was invincible.


	7. I was fighting

"So Kurt," Blaine twirled spaghetti around on his fork and watched the noodles as he rotated his fork around and around, "how's McKinley?"

Kurt frowned slightly, then it was gone in a flash and he gave Blaine a light smile. He was hoping that Blaine had missed the grimace, but knowing him, he hadn't.

"It's fine." Kurt took a sip of his water.

Blaine gave him a knowing look, but didn't press the matter. "Okay." He chewed his food thoughtfully and then smiled, setting down his fork. "Oh, I forgot to tell you! I'm going to be in Lima Monday night."

"Really? For what?"

He grinned. "Wes and David come down here every once in a while to go to the beach. And since the weather's been so nice, they wanted to have a bonfire."

"Oh. That sounds fun."

Truthfully, Kurt had never really cared for the beach. He could take it or leave it honestly, being kind of burnt out with how much Finn had dragged him there during the past few summers to hang out with Glee all day in the sun. But he'd never been to a bonfire. He really didn't know why he'd never gone. He assumed that the sand wouldn't be any more less abrasive at night than it was in the day and he just couldn't subject his skin to any more torture; all day in the sun slathered with a gallon of sunscreen was enough.

"You don't sound that excited." Blaine smiled and took another bite of spaghetti.

Kurt shrugged, breaking a breadstick in half. "Never been."

"What?" Blaine's eyes bugged wide. "You should go!"

"I don't want to intrude. It's Wes and David's thing and I-"

"Kurt," he stared at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes and Kurt froze, his breadstick paused in midair, "you won't be intruding. I'm inviting you. And I know they won't mind."

"It's a school night. Are you sure?"

"That's what makes it fun. There's no one at the beach on a school night. We have the entire place to ourselves."

Kurt smiled lightly, picturing Blaine and himself standing on the sand, hands intertwined as they watched the sunset in the picturesque romantic surroundings. Blaine had invited him. He wanted him there. The thought made him smile wider.

Kurt broke himself out of his thoughts and found that Blaine was staring at him. He blushed.

"Sorry. Lost in my own world. Did you say something?"

"No." Blaine grinned. "I was just thinking how your eyes light up when you smile. Did you know that?"

Kurt felt his blush creep higher up his cheeks. "Not until now."

"Well they do."

He chewed on his lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The only times Kurt smiled anymore were when he was with Blaine and when he was thinking of Blaine and when he was in rehearsal. So two out of three things that made him happy revolved around Blaine.

He knew that Blaine was being a good friend. He wished that Blaine could be more than that. He really wanted Blaine to be more than just his friend, but Blaine was only trying to be nice. It was in Blaine's character. He was sweet, caring, and helpful, everything that made Kurt sigh with happiness as he thought about the boy with the curly hair.

"So, will you go with me to the beach?"

Kurt looked up and smiled. "I'd love to."

They finished their meals and Blaine reached for the check. But Kurt was prepared for this. He snatched up the bill and laughed at Blaine's soft whine as he tried fruitlessly to grab it back.

"Kurt, come on. I invited you to dinner tonight. I'm paying."

"Nope. As I recall, you paid for coffee."

Blaine smirked. "Yeah, coffee was what? Five dollars, if that? This is a fifteen dollar dinner. Coffee does not equal dinner."

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to buy dinner next time." And Kurt slipped the money into the checkbook, holding it out to the waitress who happened to be walking by, before Blaine could grab it back. It was perfect timing really. "No change." He flashed a smile at the waitress, who took the bill and bid them a good night.

"Kurt," Blaine began with a sigh, but smiled at him, "thank you. You didn't need to do that, really. I asked you here, I should have paid."

"It's no problem." Kurt said and stood up, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and returned Blaine's smile. Kurt didn't miss that as they left, Blaine dropped a five-dollar bill on the table, but he didn't say anything.

Blaine opened the door for him and Kurt strode through out into the night, feeling the cooling air hit his face. He slid his arms into his light jacket and Blaine fell into step beside him, their shoulders so close, they would touch occasionally. Kurt couldn't help the thrilling jolt that made his breath hitch every time he brushed Blaine's shoulder.

"Kurt, I don't want to ruin a good night, but I was wondering…" Blaine broke off and stared into the distance, wondering if he was overstepping, and then turned his eyes back to Kurt, "Is Karofsky still bothering you?"

Blaine felt Kurt's steps falter ever so slightly beside him.

"It's not as bad as it was." Kurt said, though he didn't look at Blaine.

"Are you happy there?"

Kurt sighed. He didn't know. "I…" he started slowly. "I'm happy when I'm singing with Glee."

"Are you happy because you're with your friends or because you're singing?" Blaine glanced at Kurt, arms swinging lightly by his side.

"Both I guess. I love singing. And I love my friends too. But when I walk out of that room, it's like a whole different place. It's like the walls are constricting. It's hard to breathe."

Blaine was silent for a while and his hand brushed against Kurt's, knowingly or not, but it sent a chill down Kurt's entire arm.

"I wish I knew how to help you Kurt." Blaine said softly and when Kurt turned his head, he saw the concern in those gorgeous eyes.

"You are helping. Even if you don't realize it." Kurt blushed again and looked down, as if worried he'd said something he shouldn't.

"Good." He said. "I just wish I knew how I'm helping so I could do it more often." And a wink flashed towards Kurt that made his heart stutter.

"Thank you for asking me to dinner tonight. I had fun."

"Me too."

It was a relief to have had this night go right so far. He felt happy. He felt safe with Blaine. He felt like he could tell him anything and he would understand.

"Now about that bonfire…" Blaine grinned and watched as another smile spread across Kurt's face.

*************

The weekend passed in a blur. Kurt kept himself busy over the weekend because he knew that he needed to keep his mind off of Monday or else time itself would seem to slow down. And he was right.

When Monday finally came around, Kurt spent most of his classes tapping his pencil on his desk, glancing at the clock so often that Mercedes poked him in the ribs.

"You okay?"

"Fine." He flashed her a smile.

Mercedes raised her eyebrows. "Kurt, you've been looking at that clock every ten seconds all day. What's going on?"

The image of Blaine's face popped into Kurt's head and he turned to her and whispered, "I'm going to the beach with Blaine tonight."

"Blaine?" And the recognition brightened her face immediately. "The Warbler?"

Kurt nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me? How long have you been seeing him?"

"I only saw him once. Wait, twice. Does coffee count?"

"Of course coffee counts!" she whacked his arm with her pen.

"Sorry, sorry." He grinned back at her.

"You're smiling a lot now." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "He makes you happy huh?"

Kurt nodded again. "Yeah, he does."

"Good. You deserve to be happy Kurt. You haven't seemed like yourself lately."

"I haven't felt like myself lately." He mumbled and thankfully, the bell rang and she didn't hear him.

There was no Glee rehearsal today so Kurt waved good-bye to Mercedes as they parted. Kurt was halfway to his car when he remembered he needed to get a book from his locker. Mercedes was probably already trying to fight the traffic getting out of the parking lot. He sighed, gathered up his what strength he could muster, and headed back into the school.

It was kind of amusing how quickly the school was vacated after the bell rang. He wondered if Dalton was the same way. He doubted that. He could picture himself strolling along the beautiful grounds, staring at the perfect architecture for hours. And Blaine would be with him. That would be nice too.

He grinned to himself as he walked along the hall and stopped at his locker. He fumbled with the lock for a moment, thinking again about the bonfire tonight, and blanking on the combination.

Kurt hummed to himself as he opened his locker, shifting through his books to find the one he needed. It was so quiet in the hall, it was a wonder that he didn't hear the approaching footsteps. But it really was amazing how quiet someone could be when they wanted to be.

"Kurt."

The voice sounded tense. Kurt almost dropped the book he was holding and spun around.

His heart sped up as he looked right into Karofsky's face.

"What?" Kurt tried to sound bored, like his heart wasn't threatening to jump out of his chest as he stared into the eyes filled with hate.

"Did you tell anyone?" The anger in Karofsky's voice rose.

Kurt blinked. "Tell anyone what?"

"You know." His eyes narrowed and he glanced around at the empty hallway, but still whispered the words. "About the kiss?"

"No David. I didn't. Was there a reason you thought I did?"

Karofsky ignored his question. "Good. Because if anyone ever finds out, I'll-"

"Kill me? Yeah, I've heard. Can I go now? I'd like to get to my homework."

He leaned up against the locker, wanting to just leave so badly, but knowing that if he tried, it would just make the situation worse. He had to act like he didn't care. Then Karofsky would let him leave. He noticed the full red and white cup in the bully's hand. Kurt sighed. One more slushie wouldn't hurt, he supposed. It wasn't like this was something he never expected. Although he thought with a heavy heart at the grey vest he was wearing. It would surely be ruined.

Something in Karofsky's gaze changed. "Are you threatening me Hummel?"

"No. Just trying to get home." Somehow Kurt hoped that if he kept talking, it would distract Karofsky and he would forget about slushie-ing him.

"Get home to your boyfriend, huh fag?"

Kurt's eyes flashed. Had he found out about Blaine? Being one target was fine, Kurt could handle that. But if he brought Blaine into this, he knew he would never forgive himself. Blaine could not be another target for Karofsky to hurt.

"Back off. You have no right to say that. No right at all!" Kurt felt the anger rise. And he didn't know why he wasn't afraid, but suddenly, he didn't care. "You're such a hypocrite! You walk around like you own this school and you can't even come out of the damn closet!"

Karofsky was getting visibly upset, his face contorting with rage and his hands clenching. The plastic cup began to distort under the pressure of the bully's grip and green slushie began to slowly squeeze out the open top, spilling out over Karofsky's hand.

"I can help you David. This doesn't have to be the way that it is. You're making it harder on yourself! Don't you see how much easier this would all be if you just… open your mind a little? Hating on me because I'm gay is going to get you nowhere! And you need all the help you can get right-"

Kurt had drawn himself up to his fullest height, watching as the bully seemed to shrink under his words. Maybe finally, he would be able to get this boy to open up about who he truly is. Maybe finally, the torments would stop. Maybe finally, Kurt would feel safe again and Karofsky would be able to get over this mountain that he'd seemed determined to build, making his life that much harder.

But as Kurt reached his last words, Karofsky flicked his eyes up, glaring, shook his head and with his free hand, shoved Kurt's shoulder as hard as he could. A small cry of surprise came from his lips as he suddenly found himself falling. Kurt threw out his arms in an unavoidable instinct to catch himself and he landed hard on his left wrist, the textbook smacking on the ground. For a moment, all Kurt could feel was pain. The immediate pressure as his weight was forced on his wrist made his head dance with black stars, driving out all thought. He cried out and rolled on his side, clutching his wrist to his chest. Kurt stared up with tears in his eyes and saw Karofsky yelling something as he towered over him.

He only heard fragments as his mind seemed focused on nothing but the shock and pain in his wrist, but Kurt heard one sentence clearly before the icy cold of the slushie dumped on to his body.

"I don't need your help!"

And then as quick as he came, Karofsky was gone, leaving Kurt on the floor, eyes wide as the shuddering cold dripped passed his hair, over his forehead, down his neck, into his mouth, under his shirt, onto the arm still held against his chest. The tears began to fall and he shook with cold and fear and pain. Carefully, he pushed himself up with his good hand and sat against the lockers until the dizziness making him feel lightheaded subsided. Then he forced his hand into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, the cloudy vision making it hard to see the screen. But he found the number he wanted and hit 'call,' praying to whoever was listening that he would pick up.

"Hello?" He could hear the smile in the boy's voice.

For a moment, all Kurt could do was sit there, shaking, unable to speak.

"Kurt? You there?"

The tears tumbled faster, mixing with the sticky corn syrup on his cheeks. He sucked in a breath. "Bl… Bl… Blaine?"

The smile in Blaine's voice disappeared so fast, it was almost scary how worried and hard his words sounded now. "Kurt! What happened? Where are you?"

"M-M…" He was almost choking on his tears and he had to force himself to calm down enough to get the word out. "McKinley."

"Okay. Kurt, I'm leaving right now. I'll be there soon. Stay on the line with me okay?"

Kurt nodded and then whispered, "Okay."

He heard a click and he knew Blaine was putting the phone on speaker. He heard his seatbelt click and the rumble of his car starting. Kurt's head swam with dark spots. He concentrated on taking deep breaths so he wouldn't pass out.

Blaine was on his way. Blaine was coming.


	8. But I just feel too tired to be fighting

Kurt sat there, the melting slushie continuing its sticky descent down his forehead, onto his cheeks, over his lips and chin. He shivered again, a dull ringing in his ears humming loudly for the… was it the fourth time? He couldn't remember. He was cold and it seemed as though the light in the hallway had dimmed considerably. His legs were tingling from being in the same position, curled up under himself, but that barely registered in his mind as his wrist gave another particularly painful throb. His eyes squeezed shut and another tear rolled down his cheek. He bit his lip and sniffed, pressed his wrist into his chest, held back his tears. He blinked quickly and managed to stop the flow of tears as his heart pounded against his ribs.

A door slammed somewhere, echoing and so loud in the silence. His immediate thought was, not Karofsky. No. No, not again. And his second thought was that he had to get away. He spread his unhurt hand flat against the ground and made to push himself up, away from the lockers, but then the sound of running footsteps hit his ears and his head flicked up as panic shot through him. The sudden motion made him groan lightly as a rush of nausea and dizziness forced him to sit back once more. His eyes closed and suddenly he didn't really care anymore. If Karofsky wanted to hurt him more, might as well get it over with in the same day. Blaine hadn't been quick enough.

Blaine.

Blaine!

He lifted his head slowly as his ears hummed again. But this time, he focused on the pounding of footsteps against the linoleum floor. And his heart almost burst with relief because Blaine was running towards him.

He would have laughed had this situation not sucked as much as it did.

Blaine's loosely curly hair was flying around his forehead as he ran, his red button-up shirt open and flapping behind him, the white t-shirt beneath shifted as the contracting muscles underneath showed just how hard he was running, his black converse almost silent on the floor, save for a squeak every now and then. It was clear that he had thrown on his shoes in a hurry, as the laces were undone and Kurt hoped with everything he had that Blaine did not trip. His face was set in a determined mask, one Kurt had never seen before. Everything was so… un-Blaine-like.

This hero, that was the only word Kurt could find at the moment to describe him, was so very different than the Blaine that Kurt had seen the few times before. Blaine was always so dapper, so put-together that Kurt had almost forgotten that Blaine even had a wardrobe outside of the crisp Dalton-issued uniform. And he had certainly never seen Blaine's hair sans gel.

Then Blaine skidded to a stop, quite literally sliding on his knees on the floor in front of him. And Kurt felt so much relief in that moment. He really was safe now. Blaine was here. And Karofsky wouldn't hurt him with Blaine here, right? Right? Then again, if Blaine was here and Karofsky came back, they could both pay the price. Kurt wasn't sure if Karofsky knew about Blaine, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

"Kurt? Kurt, oh god, Kurt, what-"

Kurt cut him off, struggling to push himself to his feet, fighting the ache in his legs that were probably still asleep. "We need to go."

The frantic look in Blaine's eyes changed. "Kurt… just… wait."

Gentle hands pressed against Kurt's shoulders and he stopped struggling for a moment. Just a moment, to look into those hazel eyes that widened with concern. "No. We need to go. Now."

He kept trying to get up, but Blaine stopped him again. "Please stop, Kurt." He was almost begging.

"You don't understand." Kurt moaned and used his good hand to brace himself against the lockers as he started to rise. "I'll tell you later. We need to go," he repeated for the third time and he hoped that Blaine could see… well, he didn't know what look was in his eyes, but he hoped that he would see that they needed to leave.

Blaine's hands tightened on his shoulders and he pulled Kurt up, not removing his hold when Kurt finally stood and closed his eyes briefly.

"Please Kurt, tell me what the hell happened?"

Blaine's eyes were so close to Kurt's. Their noses were almost touching and the harsh worry in Blaine's voice made Kurt's heart squeeze.

"No!" Kurt yelled and surprised even himself with the power of his voice. Then, he lowered his volume to a hiss, glancing around quickly as he did so. "He could be coming back any minute. Please Blaine. We need to go now!"

Whatever it was, his voice, his eyes, his stuttered breathing, Blaine nodded and Kurt didn't care why he had given up trying to make him tell him what happened. He just wanted Blaine out of there. He wanted both of them out of there.

Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's waist and held him tightly to his side, taking most of his weight as Kurt struggled to get his legs to wake up. Together, they stumbled to the end of the hallway, where Blaine pushed open the door and led Kurt through, who glanced around as they stepped outside. Kurt began walking towards his car, but found himself being gently pushed the other way as Blaine began to guide him, holding him tighter against him.

"My car. You're not driving. I'll have Wes and David drive over here and get your car."

There was a definitive tone to Blaine's voice and Kurt felt too tired to argue, so he let Blaine take him the thankfully shorter distance to his car, where he opened the door for Kurt before getting in on the driver's side. Blaine shut his door and the locks on every door clicked simultaneously. But Blaine did not start the car.

Kurt was staring ahead, his eyes slightly downcast, wrist pulled up against his chest. He was vaguely aware that the remainder of the slushie that was not soaked into his clothes was now dried in sticky corn syrup trails on most of his pale skin.

Kurt could feel Blaine's eyes on him, but he didn't look up.

"Kurt, what happened? Did he do this to you?" Blaine's voice dropped and tensed. "Did Karofsky do this to you?"

Kurt licked his dry lips, but still, he did not meet Blaine's gaze. "He could still be here-"

"He's not getting into a locked car. And I doubt he stuck around to see which car we got into." Blaine's voice softened. "He wasn't here. I checked."

"You don't even know what he looks like."

"I know enough about him from what you've told me. There was no one running out of that building to this parking lot. I'm sure he's long gone."

Kurt could feel Blaine's eyes boring into him and he could picture the blatant concern distorting his beautiful features, his eyebrows pulling down and the hazel eyes blazing. "How bad did he hurt you Kurt?"

There was a pause. "I'm getting slushie on your seats." Kurt whispered.

"I don't care. Kurt, will you please-"

Kurt turned his head, looking away. "Blaine, just drive. Just drive. I want to go home."

Blaine was burning to know if Kurt needed help, as in hospital help, but he knew that Kurt would probably get out of the car, moving or not, if he tried to drive to the hospital.

"Okay," Blaine whispered and started the car, pulling out as quickly as he could, driving away from this place, this place that made Kurt afraid and hurt.

And Blaine swore he would do anything to protect him.

***********

"Thank you for taking me home. And for coming there."

Blaine's mouth lifted into a small, sad smile and he looked down at Kurt, who was staring up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, and Blaine noticed with a twinge of pain that the sparkle that he had seen on that first day they had met, had faded.

He let the warm water run over his hands, cupping them to trap the water as best he could, and then lifted his hands to the top of Kurt's head, opening them and letting the water fall. Kurt made a soft sighing sound as the water ran over his hair, and leaned his head back a bit more in the bathroom sink. He shifted slightly on the kitchen chair that Blaine had pulled over from the dining room table.

Blaine ran his hands through Kurt's hair, matted and practically glued to his head from the dried syrup.

"There's shampoo in the shower," Kurt said dully. "I can do it myself though."

He heard Blaine turn as his shoes squeaked and then the sound of the shower curtain being moved to the side. He heard the pop of the lid on the shampoo bottle and the sound of the thick liquid being squeezed onto his hand. Then he heard Blaine speak.

"I don't mind. Are you sure it's just sprained?" Blaine looked worriedly at Kurt's wrist.

"I'm sure." Kurt said, wanting to dispel his worry. "It's not bad."

"Well, bad or not, you couldn't do this by yourself." He set down the bottle of shampoo. "And I'm sorry this happened Kurt. This should never have happened."

Kurt bit his lip and tightened his grip on the bag of ice on his wrist that Blaine had gotten for him. "I'm used to it."

Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair again and began to rub the shampoo in. It felt good. Kurt let his eyes close. He felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't really stop it so he kept his eyes closed and hoped that Blaine didn't notice.

"I hate it when you say things like that. You shouldn't need to be 'used to it.' It's not right. That kid is a monster."

The warm water was splashed over his scalp and Blaine worked out all the knots that had formed. Then Blaine removed his hands and Kurt heard something else being put under the faucet before it was turned off. Blaine put his hand under Kurt's neck and gently lifted his head up, rubbing a fluffy towel over his hair until it was mostly dry. Kurt smiled gratefully up at Blaine, who smiled back and reached behind Kurt's shoulders, into the sink to grab the wet washcloth, which he brought up to Kurt's cheek.

Kurt felt his heart stutter as Blaine leaned in, continuing to wipe his cheek lightly. Then he moved the cloth to Kurt's other cheek and asked quietly, "Is this as bad as its been?"

Kurt wanted to look down, to avoid Blaine's gaze, but he suddenly found he couldn't look away from his eyes that melted with concern. "Yes."

"He's never hurt you like this before?"

"Not intentionally, no."

Blaine brought the cloth down slowly. "This time it was intentional?"

"No, he…" Kurt sighed. "I don't think it was. Not at first."

He moved the cloth to Kurt's forehead and then back around to his neck. "What happened?"

"He asked me if I told anyone. About the kiss."

Blaine paused for a second, but didn't say anything.

"I said I didn't. And when I told him I wanted to go home, he asked me if I was going home to my faggy boyfriend."

Blaine sucked in a quiet breath at the word faggy.

"And I just got mad. I… I was worried that he had found out about…" Kurt swallowed and he broke Blaine's gaze for the briefest of seconds. "I told him he was making it harder on himself and I could help him and then he shoved me and I fell and he said he didn't need my help, dumped his slushie on me and left." Kurt looked up. "And then I called you."

Blaine let out the breath, let the hand holding the washcloth fall away. "Kurt, I am telling you this as a friend, okay? As someone who really cares about you." Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes and Kurt could not have looked away if he tried. "You need to tell someone. If he gets away with it now, there's no telling what he's going to do next. He hurt you. What if he does worse later, just because he knows he can?"

Kurt had been sinking back into his chair, curling in on himself. "I don't want to have this conversation."

"But, Kurt, it-"

"No, Blaine. And… and if you're going to keep telling me that, you can leave." Kurt lifted his chin, determination set in his eyes.

Blaine let out a frustrated groan and dropped his head briefly before looking back up. "Alright." He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, fine. I won't talk about it. Not today. But you are going to have to face this Kurt." He sighed and said quietly, "I won't always be there to help you."

Kurt didn't say anything, just kept his gaze locked on Blaine's. He straightened up and lifted the bag of ice off Kurt's wrist, tossed the washcloth back in the sink, and held out his hand. Kurt took it and let Blaine pull him up, then followed him out of the bathroom and to the living room. He was silent as Blaine sat down on the couch and nodded to the empty space next to him.

"Come lay down."

Kurt paused, unsure if he had heard right. When Blaine stared at him, waiting, he assumed that no, he was not dreaming, and walked over, sitting near Blaine and then laying down as he had been told. Blaine lowered Kurt's head onto his own lap and grabbed a small pillow from where it had been resting against the arm of the couch. So gently, Blaine held Kurt's elbow in a steady grip, placing the pillow on Kurt's stomach and then setting his arm down before covering his wrist with a dry cloth and the bag of ice again.

"Helps the swelling go down," Blaine murmured, "when whatever is hurt is above your heart."

Kurt seriously hoped that Blaine couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating right now.

"Oh," was all he could say at this moment.

It was quiet for a while and then Blaine looked down at him and said, "You're okay now Kurt."

"What?" Kurt was snapped out of his thoughts. He glanced up at Blaine, who smiled softly.

"You're really tense right now. Relax. Nothing is going to hurt you here." And Blaine brought his hand up to Kurt's forehead, where it rested there for a comforting moment. Then he began to move his hand, brushing his calloused fingertips so lightly against the pale skin.

Kurt sighed and closed his eyes. Muscles unwinding under Blaine's careful touch, he did relax. He didn't even realize that he was that tensed up. He let himself sink into the couch, imagining he was laying on a cloud, and all of the fear that had filled him earlier began to go away because he was with Blaine now. And he was right. Nothing could hurt him here.

Blaine moved his hand down to gently cup Kurt's cheek, where he rubbed soothing circles with his thumb onto the highest point of his cheekbone. Kurt instinctively leaned into his touch. Blaine laughed, a sound so soft and beautiful, and then he moved his fingers back up to Kurt's forehead, where he began to tenderly run his hand through Kurt's hair. Kurt thought that if he was more relaxed than this, he might become a pile of jell-o. But then Blaine began to hum and Kurt thought that being a pile of jell-o might not be so bad. Kurt had heard the song before, but he couldn't remember the name of it at the moment. But Kurt was pretty sure that Blaine could sing or hum anything and it would be beautiful on his lips.

Kurt's eyes remained closed and his breathing began to slow and he didn't even realize the throbbing in his wrist so much anymore because Blaine was running his thumb up and down his forehead and it felt so good and he was so tired.

***********

Kurt didn't even realize that he'd fallen asleep until he heard voices.

"Who are you?"

The voice sounded far away and Kurt shifted slightly. He felt the soft caress of Blaine's touch still on his skin, though at the sound, it stopped. Kurt pulled himself out of the most amazing dream he could remember having and tried to open his eyes.

He heard footsteps and recognized the sound of the boots his dad wore to work on the stairs. Kurt felt so heavy, like his body really was sunk into the couch. He shifted again and he felt Blaine's hand on his shoulder.

"I'm Kurt's friend, sir."

Kurt forced his eyes open. He had to blink to get his world to come into focus after being so deeply asleep, but he felt his heart begin to race at the sight of his father when he realized that he'd come home to him asleep on another boy's lap.

"Dad?" He said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Burt walked up to the couch, setting his keys on the counter.

Kurt pushed himself up and Blaine stood immediately, holding out his hand.

"I'm Blaine Anderson."

Burt shook Blaine's hand and glanced at Kurt before looking back to Blaine.

"And are you in that singing club too?"

"Glee club, dad."

"Okay, that." He kept his eyes on Blaine, waiting.

He shook his head. "No, sir. I go to Dalton Academy. I'm in the Warblers there. Our glee club."

"He's the lead singer." Kurt really couldn't help feeling pride at that statement. He risked a glance at Blaine, who had blushed slightly.

"Uh huh. Don't you kids usually have…" he trailed off and gestured to Blaine's outfit.

Blaine grinned. "Yes, we wear uniforms there, but I changed."

"And how did you meet Kurt?"

Blaine bit his lip, but the laughter made his eyes sparkle.

Kurt spoke up. "I tried to spy on their glee club. Failed miserably. But they took pity on me and decided not to kick me out."

"Spying? When did this happen?" Burt's eyes narrowed.

"It was nothing dad. I'll tell you later. Long story. Really boring."

Burt looked at his son, who had stood and was holding the halfway melted bag of ice in one hand, his hurt wrist against his stomach and his eyes immediately changed to concern.

"Kurt, what happened to your wrist?" He lightly gripped Kurt's arm, trying to get a better look at the part of his wrist that was now a horrid shade of purple.

"It looks worse than it is." Kurt said, holding out his hand so his father could see. "It's just sprained."

"Well, what happened?"

Kurt could see Blaine standing there when he looked over his father's shoulder. Blaine's eyes never left Kurt's, silently asking him to tell the truth. And Kurt held his gaze for a moment more before glancing back up at Burt and saying, "I fell."

"Fell? What do you mean?"

"It's my fault."

Burt turned to look at Blaine. Kurt stared at him with wide eyes.

"Kurt forgot his notebook when he left Dalton and I went back today to give it to him. I was trying to catch up to him on the stairs. And I started talking to him and he turned around and didn't see the last step and he fell."

Burt paused for a moment and Kurt stood still. Then Burt turned around and looked at him. Kurt gave him a faint smile and shrugged lightly. And Burt laughed.

"Gets that from me." He said and smiled. "Clumsiness seems to run in the family."

Kurt smiled wider and briefly met Blaine's gaze over his dad's shoulder, but quickly looked away.

"Alright, do you need anything Kurt? More ice? I think we have an ACE bandage around here somewhere."

Kurt shook his head. "No, dad. I'm fine. Thank you."

Burt nodded. "I've got to get back to the shop, so I'll be home late." He turned his gaze to Kurt, shifting so his back was to Blaine, giving him a look that simultaneously said, we'll talk about this later and no funny business. Kurt knew that 'this' meant Blaine, but he really didn't know what he had to worry about. Blaine was his friend. Nothing more, though Kurt desperately wished that would change.

His father left and they were alone again. Kurt sat back down with a sigh, dropping the melting bag of ice on the table.

"Don't say it." He groaned, not looking at Blaine.

The curly-haired boy cocked his head and moved to sit next to him.

"Thank you though." Kurt whispered. "For not telling him."

Blaine sighed, clasping his hands between his knees and looked sideways at Kurt. "It's not my place to tell him. But I think you should. I really think you should. And for the record, I hate lying Kurt. I'm not going to lie to him again. Not about this, alright?"

Kurt nodded, hanging his head more.

"What's wrong?"

"You're a really good friend, you know that?" Kurt looked sideways at him and saw the smile cross Blaine's face.

"I try."

Both boys laughed together and Kurt smiled.

***********

Kurt had called Blaine the next day and asked if he could watch the Warblers rehearse.

"I don't know Kurt. I mean, I don't mind, but convincing Wes is going to be a whole other story." He paused. "But I'll try. Hold on."

Kurt almost held his breath, but instead, held the phone between his ear and shoulder and played with a loose string that was unraveling from the black fingerless gloves he had taken to wearing until the swelling and bruising went down on his wrist. The glove also hid the ACE bandage, which was good.

He hadn't gone to school today. It was the first time he'd ever skipped school. He had gotten dressed this morning and gotten in his car and driven around the corner, where he waited until eight o'clock when he knew his father had finished his coffee and would head out to work. Then, he pulled back around into the driveway and went back in the house.

He really didn't know what to do with himself. No one else was skipping school. It even felt weird to think about it. Kurt Hummel did not break rules. But he'd felt that today was an exception. He wouldn't really be skipping school. He just had to bring a note tomorrow saying that he had been sick and it would be cleared as an excused absence. But he just knew he couldn't go to school today.

So he'd spent the day giving himself a very long facial and took a long, hot bath. Then he'd watched Singing in the Rain and avoided daytime television at all costs. When three o'clock came around, he remembered that the Warblers had rehearsal at four. He really hoped that Blaine would let him watch.

"Kurt?"

His ears pricked. "Yeah?"

"Took a lot of convincing, but we aren't rehearsing the number for sectionals today. So, you can come."

Kurt smiled immediately. "Really? That's great. Thank you!"

Blaine laughed. "No problem. Meet me outside the auditorium at three-thirty? I assume you remember where that is?"

Kurt blushed, remembering again the spying fiasco. "Yeah, I remember."

"Alright. See you then."

Kurt really couldn't believe he was here. The grandeur of Dalton amazed him once more. Everything here was so… amazing. He couldn't find another word to describe it. And when he saw Blaine leaning up against the door of the auditorium, waiting for him, his heart leaped in his chest.

He smiled as he reached him.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. How's your wrist?"

Kurt looked down at his gloved hands. "Alright. It's stiff and sore, but it'll be okay."

Blaine nodded and took his other hand to pull him forward. He opened the large door and led him into the empty auditorium, pulling him gently along to one of the front seats. They sat down and Blaine turned to him, saying, "Everyone else won't be here for about twenty minutes. I like to sit here sometimes and just think. Or practice. But it's nice here."

And it was. It was nice here. It was dark and still and calm. The cool air inside had made him suck in a breath, but now, the air felt good on his skin.

"You've had a lot to deal with lately, so I thought it would be nice to just sit." Blaine's voice had gotten softer.

Kurt smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand. "Thank you. It is nice."

Kurt pulled his hand away, but in the darkness, he couldn't see the way that Blaine frowned slightly when he did so.

***********

After rehearsal, when most everyone had cleared out, Blaine stayed behind and flopped down in the seat next to him.

"What'd you think?" He smiled widely and Kurt had to remember that he no longer had the dark stage lights to hide his blush.

He turned to Blaine. "That was really, really good."

I couldn't take my eyes off you.

Blaine smirked. "Aww, only two really's?"

Kurt smirked too and nudged him gently with his shoulder. "Alright, three then. But no more than four."

"You're too kind."

Kurt laughed when Blaine bowed as deeply as he could while still sitting in the chair. Kurt tried not to think of Blaine's adorably flushed face or the very slight sheen of sweat on his brow that made him look so much more gorgeous for some reason. Sweat was not something that Kurt would ever call 'appealing,' but on Blaine, sweat was hot.

He looked down, praying his red cheeks did not get even redder than they already were.

"Hey, Kurt?"

He turned his head at the gorgeous sound, that voice.

"You okay?" Blaine's head tilted to the side, slight concern in his eyes.

Kurt smiled. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Why did he keep lying? He lied constantly about being 'fine' whenever his dad asked him how school was going, he said he was 'fine' when Mercedes inquired about his jumpiness lately, and he was lying now to Blaine.

He was not fine. He was so much more than fine.

He thought he was falling in love.


	9. Guess I'm not the fighting kind

A locker door near him slammed. Kurt involuntarily jerked back, every muscle clenching as he braced himself for the impact of his body against the metal. But it never came. He let out his breath in a sigh of relief as he realized the locker that slammed had been the result of a freshman hurrying to class. Kurt's eyes flicked briefly to the collage of letters he'd cut out and taped to the inside of his locker. Sure, he'd had to scour nearly all of his fashion magazines until he'd found letters that were perfect enough, but it had been worth it. The letters were neatly affixed to his locker and spelled out the word COURAGE. Above that, he'd stuck a picture of Blaine. He'd found the picture along with an article about Dalton's performance last year at Sectionals. Not that he was Google stalking or anything.

He sighed and closed his locker, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Blaine's face. It might seem a bit presumptuous to have a picture of the boy he was in love with taped to his locker before they were actually together, but for Kurt, Blaine's picture symbolized more than that. Blaine was out and he was proud of who he was and Kurt greatly idolized him for that. Kurt was proud too, or at least he used to be. Now, he looked at Blaine's picture and saw who he wanted to be, but was forced to tone down his fashion choices and everything about himself so that he could lay low and maybe Karofsky wouldn't bother him.

Kurt had gone through every piece of clothing he owned and sat down with three boxes. Each box was labeled: Too Fashionable, Too Attention-Grabbing/Flashy, Good. It had taken him hours, but by the time he was done, he'd filled the Attention-Grabbing box to the top and the Fashionable was spilling out the top. The box he'd deemed Good was only half full, but it would have to do. Sealing the first two boxes carefully with packing tape, he'd shoved them as far back into his closet as they would go, a seemingly fitting thing, he'd thought darkly, that all of his clothes that got him noticed for being gay were now locked away in his closet. Just like Karofsky wanted to do to him. Well, Kurt wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of 'flaunting the gay.' Not anymore. No, Kurt Hummel was going to style-down and blend in. So take that.

Kurt was happy that his wrist was no longer hurting or swollen and he didn't need to wear the ACE bandage anymore, so his black fingerless gloves had been the first thing to go in with the other Flashy things he owned. He was still wearing long-sleeved shirts to cover the slight discoloration of his wrist, but he thought he'd be able to get away with t-shirts in a week or so. Today, Kurt wore black pants, a plain white long-sleeved shirt and a pin-striped vest. His inner fashionista was dying to add some sort of hat or pocket watch or something, but he'd had to be content with this. The less attention he brought to himself, the better.

Kurt had felt semi-okay for the past week. He'd gone through his days talking as little as possible, stopping for as quickly as he could get away with. The only people who really seemed to realize that he was acting differently was Glee. And they only noticed because his voice was kind of distinct and him not singing was pretty noticeable. Even then though, he'd barely sing, only enough to protest that he actually was singing.

He'd been tired lately, but that was normal. It's hard to sleep when the varying ways you can be cornered and taunted keep running through your mind.

Kurt flipped the pages of his history textbook in a lethargic state, not paying attention to what he was supposed to be doing which was outlining the text and taking detailed notes that would help him on the test. Mercedes poked him with the eraser of her pencil. He jumped and landed back in his seat with a surprised squeak, causing half of the silent class to turn and stare at him. The eyes looking at him seemed multiplied a hundred times as he felt his face flush crimson. He turned to Mercedes and glared at her.

"What?" he said, harsher than he meant the word to sound.

She gave him a hurt look and mumbled, "Never mind," before turning back to her work. She didn't talk to him for the rest of class, or after class for that matter, even when he tried to apologize. She'd just pursed her lips slightly and told him, "It's okay. Everyone's under stress." And that was that. She walked away and Kurt knew that the conversation was over. And that it most definitely wasn't okay.

He groaned internally and leaned up against his locker, closing his eyes briefly. He pictured the collage hanging in his locker. COURAGE.

He had a feeling it would take a lot more than courage to get through this.


	10. Where will I meet my fate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, fond memories of the "songfic" circa 2010. 
> 
> I guarantee this isn't the last chapter with a song in it but hopefully it's not too cheesy.

Kurt sat on a plush Dalton comforter, legs tucked up underneath him and clad in a soft cashmere sweater. His blue eyes were currently moving languidly back and forth, watching Blaine as he was bopping around and singing with such passion that Kurt had to silently curse the rapid beating of his heart. He wondered if Blaine could hear it. Blaine was so observant, Kurt wouldn't put it past him.

Blaine finished the song and Kurt willed the cheek-hurting, dazzling smile aside and instead let his lips curl up in a more demur, soft smile. Blaine let out a quick breath and looked at Kurt expectantly.

"So?" he asked in a slightly nervous tone that Kurt immediately found adorable, "What'd you think?"

Kurt let his hand stray along the soft material of the comforter, hardly believing he was actually here. In Blaine's dorm. Blaine's dorm. He could barely contain himself when Blaine had called and asked if he wanted to help him with the song he was going to audition with for a solo. And he'd had to hold the phone away from his face for a moment while he silently squealed with joy when Blaine invited him over. To his dorm. The first thing Kurt noticed when he walked in was the myriad of posters, sheet music, and random drawings covering Blaine's half of the room. If he had wanted to know anything about Blaine before, all he would have had to do was walk into his room. Harry Potter, Les Choristes, and Lord of the Rings were just some of Blaine's favorite movies and he'd seen album covers for music in such a wide range of genres, it was impossible to know if he had a favorite. Sheet music for Imogen Heap, Freelance Whales, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, and strangely enough, Disney songs were just some of the inspiration that covered his walls.

Kurt might not have known what color the walls were supposed to be unless he looked over at Blaine's roommate's side of the room, where only a few pictures were taped to a dresser door. Blaine had seen him staring and laughed as he explained, "We're not allowed to paint the walls, so I figure posters are enough of a creative outlet to express myself."

Kurt didn't know why this was the first question out of his mouth, but once again, he found himself not worrying about what he said around Blaine. "What color would you paint the walls?"

"Purple." Blaine's response was immediate and he looked at Kurt with a smile as he said it.

"Really? Why?"

"Favorite color." He shrugged and then continued, "I read somewhere that it's the color of creativity."

Kurt made a mental note that purple was Blaine's favorite color and tried very hard to not picture Blaine in an all-purple ensemble that fit him all too well. Tried, and failed.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" Kurt looked up a bit guiltily, shaking the thought from his mind.

"What color would you paint the room?"

Kurt stood back and surveyed the surroundings, deciding that a light color would be best to make the room seem larger, as dorms are cramped enough as it is. "Pale green." He answered thoughtfully. "With accents of cream and chocolate brown." It would bring out the color of your eyes.

Blaine raised his eyebrows as he looked around, envisioning Kurt's suggestion. "Nice. But," he said, gently nudging Kurt's shoulder as he did so, "I think I'd get hungry."

"Hungry?" Kurt turned his gaze to him and it was his turn to raise his eyebrows.

"It'd remind me of mint chocolate chip ice cream and I cannot resist mint chocolate chip ice cream."

Kurt made another mental note of that as he laughed along with Blaine. He was learning all kinds of things today.

Then Blaine had sat him down on his bed, assuring him that his roommate was out seeing a movie, and began to sing.

And now Blaine was looking at him, wanting for him to say something, and all Kurt could think was, that's not the right song.

"Was it that bad?" Blaine asked, withdrawing slightly and crossing his arms in front of him.

"No, no, Blaine." Kurt hastily tried to remedy his silence. Blaine thought that he thought it was bad. "It wasn't bad at all. You're an amazing singer, really."

Blaine sensed there was something else and moved to sit next to him, bouncing slightly on the bed. "But what? There's something you're not telling me." He turned his gorgeous hazel eyes on Kurt. "I trust you. What was wrong with it?"

Kurt bit his lip as he tried to think of how to say what he wanted. "You have an amazing voice, Blaine, you truly do, but," he started slowly, "I think that you could choose a better song. One that highlights your ability to be… well, you."

"You're saying I should perform a song that I wrote?"

"You've written songs?"

Blaine smiled. "Yeah."

"I'd love to hear them sometime." Kurt found himself getting quite off-topic, as his mind was reeling with the possibilities of the songs that Blaine wrote because he knew they would be beautiful.

"I'll show you. Soon."

And Kurt felt himself blushing.

"But… do you think I should do one of my songs?"

Kurt was snapped back into the task at hand. "Not necessarily. I mean, I think they'd be amazing, but maybe you could do something a bit more… understated? Something that shows you but isn't yours." Kurt groaned, smacking his head with his open palm. "This is making no sense. I'm sorry, I'm no help at all."

But to his surprise, Blaine grinned and then went to his closet, where he pulled out a guitar case.

"You play guitar too?" Kurt was sure he couldn't get more perfect. And then he had to go and do this.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Blaine flashed him another grin and winked as he pulled the strap around his—oh, so gorgeous—torso.

He cleared his throat and marched up in front of his audience again. Blaine began to strum and took a breath, but Kurt stopped him.

"Wait, what are you singing?"

"You'll see. And no interruptions." Blaine grinned again.

"Sorry." Kurt whispered and leaned forward in anticipation.

Blaine's fingers pricked along the strings and Kurt knew he'd heard that melody before, but he couldn't remember where…

And then he began to sing.

Oh, that's where he knew it from. Kurt didn't bother to hide his smile this time.

Look at this stuff,

Isn't it neat?

Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?

Wouldn't you think I'm the girl,

Girl who has everything?

Look at this trove, treasures untold

How many wonders can one cavern hold?

Looking around here you think,

'Sure, she's got everything.'

This song was perfect. Blaine had changed some of the melody, morphing it from something soft and almost hesitant, to a song filled with power and flawless strength. Kurt couldn't help but smile. Everything about Blaine was beyond words. He'd taken this song and made it his own, and it was perfect.

I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty.

I've got whozits and whatzits galore.

You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty!

But who cares?

No big deal.

I want more.

I want to be where the people are.

I want to see, want to see them dancing,

Walking around on those…

What do you call them?

Oh, feet!

Flipping your fins, you don't get too far.

Legs are required for jumping, dancing,

Strolling along down a….

What's that word again?

Blaine paused here and leaned towards Kurt, smiling hugely. Kurt giggled in spite of himself and practically shouted, "STREET!"

Blaine's smile grew even wider and he continued.

Up where they walk,

Up where they run,

Up where they stay all day in the sun,

Wandering free, wish I could be

Part of your world.

Blaine's fingers stalled for just a moment and then he began a gentle pricking on the strings, slowing his voice and rocking his body back and forth softly with the beat.

What I would give if I could live out of these waters.

What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?

Bet'cha on land, they'd understand

Kurt wasn't prepared for the utterly sexy tone of Blaine's voice on the next line and was barely able to stop himself from letting the gentle moan fall from his lips.

That they don't reprimand their daughters!

Proper women, sick of swimming

Ready to stand!

And ready to know what the people know.

Ask 'em my questions and get some answers

Like, what's a fire and why does it… what's the word?

Burn?

When's it my turn?

Wouldn't I love? Love to explore that world up above?

Blaine paused in playing the guitar and his voice rang out as he dragged out the last word, sending a chill up Kurt's spine. Then he picked right back up on the upbeat melody and played out the last lines.

Out of the sea

Wish I could be

Part of your world.

Blaine let the notes fade and at Kurt's unwavering smile, he grinned, flinging the strap over his shoulder and setting his guitar aside. He bounced again next to Kurt and sat with their shoulders pressing together.

"Better?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? That song was fantastic. Blaine, that was… amazing."

"You think that song would help me get a solo?"

Kurt scoffed. "You don't need help, Blaine. You're fantastic as is. But yes, that song is much better."

They were quiet for a while, Blaine strumming his guitar absentmindedly. It wasn't a tense silence at all, but both boys were lost in their thoughts and for the time being, silence was welcome. They were completely at ease around each other, not needing to fill the void with random chatter, but just being.

Kurt wrapped his arms around his knees and contented himself with watching Blaine play. It really was fascinating. He'd never played an instrument before, but had always wanted to.

And the question blurted from his mouth before he had a chance to think about it. But that was one thing he wasn't worried about with Blaine. He could ask or do or say anything and he knew that Blaine wouldn't look at him any differently. He wouldn't judge him or make fun of him. The only thing Kurt couldn't say was that he was in love with him. But with anything else, it didn't matter what rolled off of his tongue.

"Blaine, can I ask you something?"

He stopped strumming and shifted, turning his full attention to Kurt. "Sure."

"What's it like?" Kurt asked timidly, suddenly wondering why he was shy. This was a simple question. "Being a Warbler, I mean?"

Blaine grinned, sending another flurry of butterflies fluttering in Kurt's stomach. "Oh. Well, it's awesome. The Warblers here are like rock stars. I get to do what I love and people stop me in the hallway to tell me suggestions of songs I should sing. I've really never felt more at home than with them. The Warblers are like my family. They can be a bit… loud or overpowering at times, but I know they've got my back and they know that I'd do anything for them. It's like an unspoken agreement." Blaine dropped his voice now and leaned in as if he were telling a very well-kept secret. "Warbler code."

Kurt smiled very softly. It was all he could manage. Inside, he was aching. "Ah, well that explains everything."

Blaine sat back up straight and tilted his head a bit. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"Oh. Hey, are things at McKinley okay?"

Kurt felt his smile fall just slightly. And he saw Blaine's gaze flicker and knew that he'd seen it. So Kurt amped up the forced happiness and smiled wider. "Yeah, it's great."

Blaine took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Kurt, you know you can tell me anything right?"

"Yeah." His voice was quiet now and he dropped his gaze for a moment, but then looked right back up in Blaine's eyes. The look on Kurt's face clearly said he didn't want to talk about it, but Blaine so badly wanted him to. He was worried that Kurt would keep all of this bottled up and then one day, just explode. And he didn't want to think about what would happen if Kurt got hurt—again—because he was too scared to say anything.

But Blaine let it go, not wanting to upset him more. "Okay. So, you're in the glee club and I haven't once heard you sing." He smiled at him encouragingly. "Would you honor me with a song?"

Kurt bit his lip. He'd stopped singing completely at McKinley and really had no desire to sing again. Not for now at least.

"If it's okay," he said softly, "I'd rather hear you sing. I haven't felt like singing lately."

Blaine's worry filtered into his eyes, but he smiled understandingly and gently squeezed Kurt's knee, where it rested against Blaine's thigh. "Okay."

And Blaine began to play.

**************

She approached him at his locker the next day, hair held back with a headband that looked like it was made by a five-year old.

"Can I help you?" Kurt asked, grabbing a book from his bag and depositing it in his locker. The picture of Blaine smiled down at him.

"Yes. I've noticed that you haven't been singing much, well, at all, and I thought that you might be feeling a bit down lately and being the ever-caring, loving person I am, I had an idea that we could have another diva-off. With selections solely from Wicked, as I know it's your favorite musical. So, what do you say?" And she flashed him a dazzlingly white smile, as if this was the greatest plan ever.

Kurt closed his locker quietly. "Rachel, I'm flattered."

"Great! Then I thought we could-"

"Actually, I wasn't finished. I'm flattered, really, but I just don't really feel like a diva-off."

Her face fell so fast, Kurt almost accepted just to make her feel better, but singing was something he just didn't feel like doing. "Why not?" she asked in a hurt tone. "I thought it would-"

An unexpected wave of anger rushed though him. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? "You thought wrong Rachel. I don't want to sing with you. I don't want to sing with glee. I don't want to sing at all, okay?"

She stared at him with those big brown eyes and backed away. "I was just trying to help," she whispered. "But if you don't want to, that's okay."

And she turned and fled down the hall, the soft click of her ballerina flats echoing on the floor.

Kurt groaned and leaned against the locker, pressing a hand to his forehead. First, Mercedes. Now he'd hurt Rachel too. He didn't mean it, but she was long gone now and he really didn't feel like going to find her to apologize. He'd tell her he was sorry later.

A heavy door slammed somewhere and Kurt jumped, one thought in his mind.

Karofsky.

And he turned and hurried to his class.


	11. Baby I'm a man; I was born to hate

Blaine Anderson pushed open the door of his dorm, where Thad was lounging on his bed, a pile of books stacked in front of him, with one worn hardback book open in front of him. Wes and David were on the floor, quizzing each other with flashcards. Thad looked up to greet his roommate with the normal nod, but his eyebrows pulled down in worry and instead he sat up, abandoning his homework and asked, "Are you okay?"

Blaine was fuming. He could flush of anger color his face up to his hairline and he knew his eyes were blazing. The only words he could form at the moment were, "I hate him!"

They all looked confused. Of course they did. Blaine hadn't told anyone about Karofsky because Kurt hadn't wanted him to, but now, he had to. Or he felt like he might explode. "And who exactly do you hate? It's Nick right? I knew him and Jeff shouldn't be allowed in the lounge. Did they break the DVD player again?" Thad asked.

Blaine groaned and dropped onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. "No. I mean, yes they did. But it's fixed now." He paused and sighed, lifting his head to look at his friends. "What would you do if someone was constantly targeting one of your friends and bullying them to the point where he was scared to go to school?"

The boys exchanged glances, but then looked back up at Blaine. David stood. "Is this 'friend' you?"

Thad was immediately onto his train of thought. "Who's hurting you? We'll kick his ass."

"Blaine?" Wes's voice was soft and worried.

Well, it was enough of an answer for Blaine. He should have found Karofsky and… and threatened him or something. Blaine knew he was small but years of being bullied had led him to take up boxing and he was pretty good. He could swipe him before Karofsky even knew what hit him. But he didn't. He hadn't and Kurt had gotten hurt. He should have done something the first time Kurt told him he was being bullied. Blaine had run away and he'd told Kurt to have courage when Blaine couldn't even follow his own advice. He felt like a coward and an ass and-

"Blaine?"

He realized he'd been staring at the ground and his guilt was now evident on his face. "No," he whispered. "It's not me. It's Kurt."

There was a pause and he could see Wes's eyes begin to widen in realization as he remembered where he'd heard that name before. "Kurt. He's… he's the one who you caught spying right? The McKinley kid?"

Blaine nodded. "I took him out for coffee that day because… well, because he just seemed harmless and I could tell he really was intrigued by the performance. He confided in me that he was being bullied by this one guy. He felt trapped and alone and I just… I-"

"He reminded you of yourself," Wes supplied softly.

Blaine's eyes closed for the briefest of moments. "Yes."

"So you wanted to help him?"

"I did. I tried to. I ran away from my bullies and I've regretted it ever since. And I told Kurt that he should stand up to this guy. He did and… and he got hurt. The asshole shoved him down and I was the only person Kurt called. The only one he trusted. And I'm the reason he got hurt."

"Is he okay?" David asked.

Blaine nodded. "Sprained wrist. It's been a few weeks though and it's healed now, but I… the guilt just… I let it happen," Blaine finished quietly. "I had him over in my dorm last weekend when you guys went to get pizza and I asked him how he was doing and he avoided the question and anything to do with that school. Karofsky is making his life a living hell and the administration won't do anything unless there's proof that Karofsky touched him and I don't know what to do about it."

It was quiet as they considered this. Finally, Thad spoke. "Maybe there's nothing you really can do."

Blaine's head flicked up and his eyes were filled with pain. "There hasto be something. Anything. He… he can't end up like… like…" He let out a frustrated groan and his hands curled. "I hate him so much and I want to punch him every time I see the terrified look on Kurt's face when I ask if he's okay. He's so far from okay but he's pretending like everything's fine. Out of sight, out of mind. But it's killing him. And it's killing me."

"Have you talked to that guy at all?"

He shook his head, uncurling his palms and when he turned them up, he discovered crescent-shaped marks in his skin.

"Maybe it would help. Tell him to back off."

Thad jumped onto David's suggestion. "We can go with you. All the Warblers. Really freak him out."

"Guys we have Sectionals in a few weeks. We get caught threatening a guy when we have no proof that he hurt Kurt, we'll be kicked out." Wes sounded wistful. "I want to help, but we can't risk that, unless you guys and every single one of the other Warblers are okay with it."

"No. I don't want you doing that for us. No, you're right David. I should talk to him."

"Alone?" Wes now sounded worried. "Blaine, that's the same thing that-"

"Happened to me? Yeah, I know. But I wasn't talking. I was too busy getting beaten up." Anger flashed in his eyes again. "I was weak then, but I'm stronger now." After being bullied for years, Blaine had picked up boxing and he was pretty good. He knew he was small, but he could take care of himself now and he wasn't going to run anymore, even if the bully he was fighting wasn't his own.

"Blaine, what if-"

"I'm not going to get hurt. I just want to talk. But if he does come at me, I can take care of it."

Wes sighed. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"I need to help him. I can't just sit back and let it keep happening. Kurt won't do anything about it. He throws up these walls and I know he doesn't let them down unless I'm near. I ran from my bullies but I can't let him do the same. Telling him to stand up to Karofsky only made things worse and I need to fix it. But this are different now. Now, I… I have-"

"Something worth fighting for," Thad finished softly.

Blaine turned his eyes to his roommate, surprised.

"You really like him don't you?"

"Yes," he said gently.

"Are you guys together?"

"No." And there was pain in the word. "I can't bring more drama into his life. He doesn't need that, no matter how I feel. But I'm the only one he trusts and I need to not give him a reason to not trust me." His jaw set tightly and his next words were spoken with confidence and determination for what he wanted to do. "I'm going to do this. By myself. I needto do this."

There was a second of silence and then Blaine stood and began organizing his papers. With his back to them, the three friends exchanged a glance. They all knew they wouldn't be able to change Blaine's mind.

Wes could only hope that his Karofsky kid was all talk and wouldn't take action on whatever it was he was threatening to do.


End file.
